The Clash
by topaz-and-onyx
Summary: Alexander is a "fifteen" year old vampire adopted by the Cullens. He doesn't fit in with the Cullens or anyone at school. Except one person. All original pairings and OC/OC. Slash
1. Chapter 1

I shoved my hands deeper into the pocket of my coat

I shoved my hands deeper into the pocket of my coat. My dad had no clue where I was, and he usually didn't at 11:30 at night, especially since today was New Years Eve. I turned down a street, aiming to get farther from the crowds of Time Square.

I was fifteen. Tall, 5'8" when I'm slouching, 6' in boots, and overly skinny. My hair was long, a little past my chin, and inky black, from being dyed recently. I usually wore it in a horsetail to school when I bothered to go, but now I let it hang down, obscuring my face. My face was pale, and thin, with large, gray eyes and a straight nose.

Under my leather trench coat I wore a black _The Clash _t-shirt from a concert I had gone to a while ago. I wore tight, gray skinny jeans that were shoved up slightly to keep from dragging in the puddles of melting slush under foot. A sliver chain hung from my neck with a tarnished cross, thumping lightly against my chest as I walked. I only wore it because of my mother.

I turned a corner heading toward the Subway tunnel. I shoved several tokens into the slot machine before pushing through a rotating door. As I walked toward the train, I unconsciously felt the pocket of my shoulder bag to make sure my wallet hadn't been taken. I had just come from mid-town and, despite the time of night, pickpockets crowded there, targeting tourists.

The train wouldn't be coming for another five minutes. I sat on a bench, alert. I didn't know if it was what I was heading to do, or just the echoing silence of the tunnel that was making me more jumpy. I fingered the switchblade in my coat pocket, ready.

I was headed to Washington Square Park. I was going to get my father what he deserved.

A few days ago I had met a guy who could help me do this, but I still didn't trust him.

Eight minutes later and the train still hadn't come. I had no clue what day it was so I didn't know whether or not the subway ran at this time of night. I kept sitting there.

Fifteen minutes since I had gotten there I hear footsteps. Light, fast. I clearly wasn't meant to hear them. I tensed further pulling the knife from my pocket, keeping it concealed under my coat.

A flash of white to my left. I didn't turn my head but kept my eyes glued to the spot. Another flash of white this time in front in of me. Another on the track to my right. Then right in front of me.

I leapt up, by feet spread wide, knife held in front of me. Cold air whistled by my left ear. My right arm. I was becoming disoriented. I could barely keep track of the current of air created by whoever, or whatever, had joined me.

"Why so tense," a soft, clear voice rang in the tunnel.

Then suddenly arms, like an iron vice wrapped around my waist. I lashed out with the knife, and hit the main artery of my attackers leg. Or at least I should have.

The knife met flesh with a screaming sound and out of the corner of my eye I saw the twisted ruins of my blade being pulled from my hand.

"Shame, might of worked," the voice whispered again, this time right in my ear.

Before I could process what was happening I thrown into a pillar, shaking the tunnel. My head cracked up against the stone causing a spasm to run down my body. Again, faster that I could anticipate, they were there. I was lifter up and shoved against the turret, my attackers body pressed against mine. It was like being caught between to boulders. Once my vision cleared I could see his face.

Pale, like death, with hungry red eyes and a perfectly straight nose. High cheekbones were set off by the cold, feral smirk he wore. Brown hair was cropped to his ears and stray locks tickled my skin.

It was a face of nightmares.

"Awww, what's a pretty boy like you doing down here all by yourself?" he taunted,

I spat blood on his face.

What he did next seemed to truly convince me, if nothing had to this point that I was going to die.

His tongue snaked out, licking the red liquid off his cheek. His smirk returned as my eyes widened.

"What the hell are you?" my voice was husky, and I had barely managed to keep it from quavering and breaking.

"I'm a vampire,"

I was stunned for a moment, wholly ready to believe him. But no, there were plenty of people like him. Self proclaimed walking dead, who drank the blood of their fellow human kind. Cults.

"Bull,"

"Huh, that's an interesting theory," he bent his head, leaning in to whisper in my ear, "A wrong one, but an interesting one none the less,"

His icy tongue caught a bead of sweat that trickled down the side of my neck.

"Mmmm, you are tasty,"

Then I felt teeth pierce my neck, like daggers tearing my skin. There was nothing I wanted more than to scream, but I knew that would just give him more satisfaction. I could feel the pressure as he sucked the blood from my veins.

I could hear the millions of people counting down the New Year hundreds of feet from me, praying just one of them would find me.

Cheering erupted, and chimes began to sound.

Suddenly he pulled away on the sixth chime, but the fire did not stop.

"Someone approaches, but this has been a lovely meeting. Wednesday, January 1, 1986. The beginning of eternity for you boy," He began to stalk away but turned briefly, "Happy New Year," Then he was gone.

I struggled across the tile to a nook in the wall. As I crawled a flash of sliver caught my eye. My mothers cross.

And grasping it in my hand, I hid in the filth of the wall. I changed over the course of three days, as perhaps thousands of people passed me by. I awoke late in the night on the third day.

Like him.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N So the first chapter was recieved fairly well. I got five reviews, although one of them was just acusing me of stealing something from their story, still not bad. Someone submitted a review under Katy and asked how he didn't know what day it was if he knew it was New Years Eve. He knew it was New Years Eve, but he didn't know what day of the week because the Subway runs on different schedules depending on the day. This chapter is longer and has a lot of information to build a foundation, so bear with me.

January 1, 2058

I had grown to absolutely despise nighttime since living in this home. I had a lot more time to think, and that was never a good thing for me. I was also prone to remembering my time as a human, seventy-two years ago. Mostly the bad times. My fathering hitting my mother. My father killing my mother. My father hitting me. My father.

Particularly aggravating was that as a human I was very good at repressing these memories. Now it felt like my human life began playing on a real every time the two boys I shared the room with turned the lights out.

Now I was living in a foster home with five other children, and Mr. and Mrs. Carlen. I hadn't chosen to end up here; I was caught once on the street and been placed with the Carlens. I had been in a foster home once before, but only for a few months. One of the parents was abusive, and I promptly disappeared after telling the police. I could have killed him right there, but I knew that would just raise more questions.

I was the oldest. I shared this room with two twelve-year-old boys, twins, Eric and Danny. There was a thirteen-year-old girl, Karla, a ten-year-old, Eva, and a six-year-old named Bailey. We were all home-schooled since Mrs. Carlen was a retired teacher. Older kids helped to teach the younger ones as well.

Eric and Danny hadn't taken to me well when I had first come here when they were ten. They had warmed to me though; I let them stay up late, and let one of them have the non-bunk bed. Karla avoided me best she could along with Eva, who did everything Karla did. Bailey liked me, and for the longest time wouldn't let me go anywhere without her.

The rest of the inhabitants of this house thought I was Anthony, not Alexander. I was seventeen and had been placed here after my father had gone to prison for domestic abuse and the slaughter of my mother. I had poor health, including a leakage in capillaries surrounding my eyes that often made the color shift between red, black, and yellow and a sensitive stomach such that I barely ate, and when I did coughed up a majority of it.

My eyes were black now, and had been for three months. The blood of humans didn't particularly bother me. Never had. I had grown so used to the scents of the humans I live with it wasn't even a problem when one of them bled.

I looked over to the clock that hung above Danny's bed, and decided it was an appropriate time to be awake. I tried to keep hours expected of a teenager, going to bed late and waking up late. Last night had been New Years Eve, so I had an excuse to go to "sleep" later. It felt like the night had dragged on, as it did every New Years, lying in bed reliving the night in the subway tunnel.

Dressed in black jeans, Marilyn Manson shirt, and a large black sweatshirt, I walked down to the kitchen where Mrs. Carlen was struggling to retrieve a pot from the top cabinet.

"Morning," I said, trying to be cheery.

She jumped, surprised by my presence even though I had tried to walk loudly, and turned, breathing heavily.

"Anthony, don't surprise me like that," she scolded, holding the counter for support.

"Sorry, I try not to," I apologize, before reaching up to grab the pan for her. She thanked me and took in my appearance.

"Always so dark," she mumbled although she might as well just screamed it with my hearing, "Are you going out?"

"I have to pick up a CD. Can I borrow the car?" I had gone through the painful experience of 'learning' how to drive again, although it was worth the convenience of not having to walk everywhere.

"Of course. Will you be back tonight?" I looked into her mind to see what she was getting at.

_Oh, I hate to always leave the kids with him. But Bill has that thing tonight…_

"Yeah, do you need me to baby-sit?" I asked. I had done it so many times, it wasn't ludicrous for me to guess what she wanted.

"Could you?"

" 'Course,"

"Thank you," Mrs. Carlen reached up (and she really had to reach as I was nearly a foot taller than her), and smoothed my hair before turning into the living room.

_Such a sweet boy. Never asks for anything, and always take care of the kids. I wish he didn't always get passed over by perspective parents. If only he wasn't so dark..._

I smirked slightly before walking at human pace to the door, grabbing the keys off the hook. It only took me fifteen minutes to drive to the record store and get the CD. We lived in a small township just outside Port Angeles so there was abundance of forest around.

I hunted, drinking in surplus, as I probably wouldn't be able to go again anytime soon. As I was running back to the car, I heard noises that didn't belong to animals. I followed them silently until I saw them. They were in a herd of deer, and the two people were moving blindingly fast killing them off quickly. Other vampires.

I didn't wait for them to notice me. I ran off as quickly as possible back to the car. I wouldn't hunt there anymore

* * *

I was still unsettled when I got back to the house around two. I spent the rest of the afternoon listening to my newest edition to my CD collection over and over again. My now greatly outdated CD player still worked like a charm, despite being held together by electric tape.

It was odd to watch as records and cassette went out of fashion, and then CDs came about, and finally MP3s, then MP4s, now MP5s. It still took some searching to find a CD player, even though bands still put out records. Tape players were a rare relic only to be found in deepest nooks and crannies of e-Bay.

I found this a comforting subject to distract myself with and stuck with it until I could hear the Carlens preparing to leave around eight. I was downstairs in time to get money for pizza and have Mrs. Carlen give me strict instructions on how give Bailey medicine for the flu.

Once they were gone, I laid on the couch while the kids played round after round of a 120th anniversary edition of Monopoly.

I ordered pizza and set the movie up, watching Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark for the 236.5 time. I seriously regretted seeing it six times when it was first in theaters.

Around 10:30 Bailey came down, complaining of her fever. I gave her medicine and let her watch the movie until it took effect. She crawled into my lap and fell asleep ten minutes later.

By 11:45 everyone else had followed suit. I carried them all up to their rooms, making more trips then necessary as it would look odd if one of them woke up to find their scrawny house mate mysteriously able to carry five children at once.

The Carlens got home around 12:30 and Mr. Carlen quickly went up to bed, never being my biggest fan.

_Creepy kid. Always just sitting in the dark…_

Mrs. Carlen sat next to me on the couch.

"All of the kids in bed?"

"Yeah they fell asleep watching the movie,"

"How did you get them upstairs?" she asked. Crap.

"I carried them," I hedged, hoping she wouldn't look too far into anything.

_He never ceases to baffle me._

"There's a social worker coming to house tomorrow," she said offhandedly.

"Why?" I never liked the workers who came. Too nosy. They all wanted to talk about my 'feelings toward my father'. I vented those feelings about sixty-five years ago.

"There are some families looking to adopt around these ages. Even some willing to look into taking twins,"

I breathed a sigh of relief. No one would need to talk to me then.

"There will be families coming in and out for the next few weeks to get know them," she said, slightly sad.

"You're sad to see them go," I didn't phrase it like a question. I could see in her mind imagining a quiet life, with just Mr. Carlen and me.

"Yes, but at the same time very happy," she sniffed lightly before getting up, "You should get some sleep. She's getting here tomorrow at 8:30,"

She bent down to kiss my cheek before walking upstairs. I slid into my room silently without waking Eric of Danny.

I looked up into the darkness, prepared to wait out the next seven hours.

I had grown to despise nighttime.

A/N I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Review lots please!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Woo! I got six reviews for the last chapter. V-Exciting. Here is the next chapter. It may be a little confusing with Anthony (Alexander)'s past, but I will try to explain most of it in the next chapter. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own recognizable characters. But I do own Anthony(Alexander) and Bailey(so cute)!

The next morning Mrs. Carlen came in to wake up Eric and Daniel and 7:30. I pretended to continue sleeping as they got dressed and went down stairs. I had always been careful not to undress in front of them, as I was still sickly skinny from my human life. The bruises, cuts, scars, and broken bones had disappeared though.

Once they left I dressed and went down stairs to the kitchen. They were all sitting at the table eating in their Sunday finest, including Mr. Carlen.

_Can't even bother to look presentable for the social worker. Damn teenagers…_

"Anthony, put on something nicer. And don't leave your hair all around your face," Mrs.Carlen, scolded, as she walked in, looking at my now fifty- something-year-old Slipknot t-shirt and jeans with a critical eye. She had tried to convince me to cut my hair telling me it would grow, but I knew differently, "She'll be wanting to talk to you, too, and it won't do to have you looking like a street rat,"

Looks can be deceiving. Except in my case… not so much.

I walked upstairs; glancing at the clock to see the social worker would be here in a few minutes. I stripped off my shirt catching eye of myself in the mirror next to the window. I had always tried to avoid mirrors, not because I thought I wouldn't have a reflection, I just was used to not liking what I was. My chest was a pale, sickly white, my ribs and collarbones still protruded slightly, but not as badly as when I was human. My arms were thin, but had lean muscle, I assumed from becoming a vampire.

My eyes were golden through my black locks, which had retained the dye even through my change. The only other vampire I had encountered was the one who changed me; so I had no idea what I was suppose to look like. For all I knew I was suppose to be angelic and beautiful, but all I saw was a monster.

I put on a white button-up shirt and buttoned it, not bothering to tuck it in. I rummaged through my drawer for my only tie. Bailey had bought it for me for my "birthday" last year. It was black with a gray grave diggers shovel at the bottom. Deciding my black jeans were nice enough, I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows and walked downstairs again, pulling my hair back.

Everyone was assembled in the living room, and I sat down next to Bailey, who still looked a little pale. She crawled into my lap with a mumbled "hello", and began searching the collar of my shirt for the cross I still wore. It was completely covered in brown tarnish and a bit of rust. Once when Bailey had broken her arm when she was three, I had shown it to her, and let her hold it while she got her cast on. She liked to make sure I always wore it.

The doorbell rang, and, after ordering us all to stand up and look nice, Mrs. Carlen hurried to answer the door. I heard them exchange pleasantries, but I didn't hear another heartbeat.

The woman walked in. She looked young probably only a few years older than me. She had white, porcelain skin, and brown hair. Her yellow eyes, took us all in, staring. Eva, Eric, Daniel, Karla. Her eyes flashed back to me, stunned, and then to Bailey, who was clutching to my hand for dear life.

_No…It couldn't be. He looks even younger than Edward…_

So there were more vampires where she came from.

"Everyone this is Bella," Mrs. Carlen introduced her.

Bella walked down the line shading everyone's hand and asking for their name. We had done this a lot.

When she got to me, Bella stared for a while, analyzing me carefully, clearly forgetting she was suppose to be shaking my hand. I thrust my hand out, waiting. She shook it, looking down slightly.

_Whoops…_

"Anthony," I said shortly,

"Thank you," she said quickly before moving on to Bailey. Bella crouched down and extended her hand for Bailey. Bailey just stared from her, to her hand, clutching my hand in one hand, and a stuffed hippo in the other. I gently eased my hand from hers, and she tentatively reached out to take Bella's.

"Well, I'll be talking to each of you one by one, for about twenty minutes each," Bella said, as she stood, "I found several perspective families that would like to meet some of you,"

She took Bailey's hand and led her into the kitchen. I listened carefully to both of their thoughts.

_Oh dear. What is a vampire doing in a foster home? He seems to be able to control himself though, and the little girl likes him._

_I don't know about this lady. She looked at Anthony funny…_ Bailey. I smiled slightly at her thoughts.

I listened to the questions and then to Bella tell Bailey about the family who might be adopting her.

_Sweet girl. I really think the Nixons would like her._

I sighed, tuning them out now. Bailey wouldn't like leaving. Once when I was lying awake I heard her dreaming of being adopted. She saw herself with a family, and pets. Being the only adopted child, and not liked. And then of thinking she'd abandoned me. I had always known Bailey would have trouble being separated from me, but I thought she would get adopted young enough that she wouldn't remember me. That wouldn't be the case.

All of the other kids went in and came out looking excited to meet new parents. Eric and Danny had a whispered conversation about refusing to go anywhere if they were going to be separated, but I knew Bella didn't plan to do that. She seemed like a good person, who honestly wanted to find a place where they were happy.

"Anthony, it's your turn," Karla said, not looking at me as she came out from talking to Bella.

I walked cautiously to the table in the kitchen across from Bella. She had my folder in front of her that I could see had all of my information. Name, birth date, health problems.

_Hmmm, how to do this…_

"Hello, Anthony," Bella said, trying hard to stay calm. "Do you go by Anthony, or something different?"

"Hello, and no, Anthony is fine," my tone was guarded and, even though I tried to sound nice, I could tell my voice came out cold.

"So it says here your full name is Anthony Evan Carol, and you were born December 31, 2040. Is that correct?" I could tell the meaning behind her words, but I feigned ignorance.

"Yes,"

"So you're how old?" Bella tried again to coerce the truth out of me.

"Seventeen, two days ago," I said sticking to my story,

_Liar. Might as well let him know I know what he is._

Oh, I know all right.

"No, you're not," her tone was still light, but she said it firmly.

"I don't see what you're getting at," I was a good liar.

"Yes you do," she lowered her voice, "You're a vampire. It's okay, I am too. Now how old are you?"

Now she was just acting like I was stupid.

"Of course I know you're a vampire. You don't need to know how old I am,"

"I'll tell you if you tell me," What, did she think I was Bailey's age? This woman has been around children too much. I decided to placate her.

"I'm eighty-seven."

"How old are you? What year were you turned?" she was too curious for my liking.

"Fifteen. 1986,"

"I'm sixty-nine," Bella seemed to think this would suddenly make me trust her.

"That's nice, but I still win"

"How were you changed?" her questions were getting more personal.

"You don't need to know that,"

"Legally you have to answer my questions honestly," she looked proud that she'd found a loophole.

"Isn't there an asterisk somewhere that says that that doesn't apply to vampires?" cynicism dripped from every word.

_Damn. Smart kid._

"Fine, I give," she smiled warmly, and I was reminded how kindly she'd treated Bailey. I decided to give her a break.

"I was changed seventy-two years. On New Years Eve in New York, right under Time Square in a subway tunnel. You?"

"My boyfriend was a vampire. He changed me in 2007,"

"Was? Not anymore?"

"No, he's my husband now,"

"Is all of this a lie then?" she asked gesturing to the paper.

"Pretty much. Age, birth date, medical problems. All made up,"

"What about your name?"

I didn't know if I could trust her yet. I took a shot in the dark.

"Fake…kind of," Bella waited for more explanation, but she wasn't going to get any. Antony and Evan was made up. Carol was my mother.

"And about your parents?"

"Real," she didn't push me any further to talk about that, and I was grateful.

"How did you get put here? And how did you come up with all of the fake information?"

"I was living on the streets, in Seattle. They found me after I had fed, and I wasn't paying much attention. They sent me to the police first. Found no record of me. Mostly I bull shitted my way out of it. Told them my dad was in prison and I had been homeless for a while. The eye disease is a real thing. Really rare, and I combined a few of them and added the yellow thing. The sensitive stomach I said came from being starved regularly,"

"Wow,"

_That's amazing. It would have taken me hours to come up with any explanation. And if the parent stuff is true… poor kid._

Once she had processed all that I had said, anther thought came.

_Hunting in the city? But…his eyes are yellow?_

"It also says you have always refused adoption," Bella tried again on a lighter note, trying to forget that I had once drank from humans.

"Yeah," I didn't normally like to talk much and I had just talked a lot about something I shouldn't have.

"Why?"

"Mostly I knew Bailey would be heartbroken. Also if someone had come here looking to adopt, and was going to take me out of pity, I would rather they take one of the others,"

_Awww, he really loves that Bailey kid._

Yeah I did.

* * *

Hours later I was lying in bed. Bella had made me an offer. To come live with her and her husband. I guess there was a lot of vampires with her; seven, she said, eight including her. According to her they would be "thrilled to have me". I told her that I would think it over, see if Bailey got adopted. I was very diplomatic, tried not to show feeling.

The truth was there was nothing I wanted more than to go with her.

A/N Just so everyone knows, I really wanted to have a child like figure but didn't want to have Edward and Bella have a kid. Bailey was my answer! I find her entirly adorable, and really cute how Anthony (Alexander) interacts with her. Review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N So long!! I didn't mean for it to be such a long chapter, but I just couldn't find a stopping point. So deal with it.

Disclaimer: Bella: Not mine, Edward: not mine, Alexander: Mine, mine, mine! The tears I cried while writing a part of this chatper(you'll see): all mine.

The next week was tough. A new family came nearly every day to look for their dream child.

The Donovans came on Monday to meet Eric and Danny. They were a young couple, late twenties, who already had two kids they had adopted. The wife acted really happy, and talked about how she was so excited to adopt kids who were a little bit older and had less of a chance of being adopted. But in her mind I could see how much she desperately wanted her own baby. One who would take their first steps with her, and call her 'mama'. Her husband seemed a lot more genuine. He and Danny bonded over a great love of baseball, and Eric over Spiderman. By the end of the day I heard Mrs. Donovan whisper to Danny that they were going to adopt them, and they asked Mrs. Carlen for the papers to sign at home. Eric and Danny left the next day.

On Tuesday a single Dad came. His wife had died three years ago giving birth to their first child.

_She'd always wanted to adopt children. _

He talked to Eva about his daughter. She was nearly four and Eva, used to always being the baby to Karla, was eager to be an older sister. I could tell Karla was sad about Eva being so anxious to leave though. He too asked for papers to look over that night. The next day he came with his daughter, Tara, and after long tearful goodbyes they took Eva to their home in Olympia.

On Thursday an older couple came, the Matlen's. They were in there late forties and their son had just left for college. They talked with Karla for about and hour and then came out to talk to Mrs. Carlen. They weren't sure whether or not they wanted her or not. They were going to think it over that night.

Later I was going up to the room I now had to myself, but stopped when I walked past Karla's room. I didn't need super hearing or be able to hear her thoughts. I silently opened the door and padded in. Karla was sitting on her bed, tears leaking down her face. I sat down on the bed, a bit farther away in case she snapped at me. When she didn't I scooted closer, and wrapped a cautious arm around her as she leaned into me.

We sat like that for nearly an hour as her tears soaked my shirt. Eventually Karla straightened and wiped at her face vigorously, before offering me a weak smile.

"Their going to take you," I learned right as they were leaving that they had almost definitely decided to adopt her. They just hadn't quite anticipated what 'We are going to think it over' would look like to a thirteen year old who's been surrounded by families that took away her housemates without a second thought.

"How do you know?" she asked, the edge starting to crawl back into her voice.

"I know these things," I tapped my head quietly, before turning to leave.

"You better be right!" Karla called to me as I closed the door.

"I am," I said to myself as I walked up the stairs.

As predicted the Matlens were back the next day, completely unaware of what their "thinking it over" did to Karla, but she left a few hours later. I was up in my room, when she knocked on the door.

"You were right,"

"I usually am," I smiled at her, and she walked over to give me a tentative hug. I was very careful not to crush her unintentionally. That would certainly put a damper on our heart-to-heart moment.

"Bye, Anthony," I heard her voice catch lightly on my name, before she walked out quietly.

* * *

That night the house was quiet. It was usually noisy during the day and at night, although the noise settled, their thoughts, and dreams often overwhelmed me. But not tonight. Mr. and Mrs. Carlen were sleeping dreamlessly. Bailey was quiet. Usually her thoughts were the loudest and the ones I listened to the most.

I no longer had to pretend to sleep in here. I was listening to an MP5 player I had acquired a while ago, when Bailey walked in. I set the music on the nightstand and sat up.

"I can't sleep," I had heard this a million times, but it never ceased to amaze me that she came to me. Eric and Danny hated when she would come in and crawl up to me saying that she had nightmares. I loved it.

She hopped onto the bottom bunk bed, and sat in my lap cross-legged. Bailey's hippo settled between her legs as she searched in the top of my shirt for my mothers cross.

"Anthony, you never told me where your necklace came from," she laid her head on shoulder as she continued to fumble with the cross.

"It was my mothers," I said, wrapping my thin, stony arms around her. I doubted that this could be a comfortable position for her. "She gave it to me before she died,"

"I wish I knew what happened to my mommy," there was honest curiosity in her voice, no sadness or resentment. Just curious.

I knew what happened to her mother. Mrs. Carlen had told me once that Bailey's mother was pregnant when she was sixteen. She had the baby and then immediately put it up for adoption. Bailey had ended up here, and grown up in this house.

Bailey's eyes began to droop, and her breathing deepened. I gently picked her up, ready to carry her back to her room.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" she asked blearily. "Miss. Bella said the Nixons wanted to adopt me, and I'm afraid to leave you,"

I nodded, smiling softly, and sat back on the bed. I laid her down and then covered her with the blankets. She fell asleep quickly.

"I'm afraid to leave you, too, Bailey,"

* * *

Sure enough, the next day the Nixons came. They sign the papers very soon after meeting Bailey and wanted to take her home tonight.

Bailey sat in my room with me while they went over the papers. Tears ran tracks down her smooth face onto my t-shirt. Soon Mrs. Nixon came up, after getting permission from Mrs. Carlen, and looked very guilty when she saw Bailey and I. The Nixons seemed very nice, and I probably wouldn't have let them take Bailey if I didn't think so.

_I hope Bailey can be that comfortable with me one day. Any six year old would be so scared of him, but Mrs. Carlen says she will barely be separate from him. I feel just awful taking her from him. Mrs. Carlen said he's had such a tough life. If I could convince John to take him, too, but we just can't afford two kids._

Bailey slid off of my lap and wiped at her face with her shirt. I knelt down in front of her and hugged her, wishing I didn't have to be so careful not to crush her. Bailey squeezed me back as hard as she could, now sobbing, but eventually I had to pull back. I kissed her cheek and then picked her up, giving her to Mrs. Nixon. Bailey reached out, holding the stuffed hippo I had never seen her without, offering it to me. I took it from her, holding it tight.

Then they were leaving. Bailey sobbing hysterically and Mrs. Carlen not being far behind. But they left. And it was just Mrs. Carlen, Mr. Carlen, and I. I walked upstairs and sat on my bed for a moment still smelling Bailey's smell on her hippo.

I walked downstairs to the phone on the kitchen wall. I pulled out the number Bella had given me. She picked up and after a brief conversation, told me she and Edward would come tomorrow. They still had to go through the show of talking to me and looking over papers before I could go live with them. After I hung up I went into the living room where Mrs. Carlen sat, reading.

I sat down next to her, mentally gearing up to tell her.

"You remember Bella, the social worker?" I started tentatively.

"Yes, sweet girl," Mrs. Carlen closed her book turning to me, "Why?"

"She and her husband, they, er, well, they want to…adopt me," it took me a while to get through.

"Oh," her face fell slightly before being replaced by a genuine smile, "That's wonderful Anthony!"

"Yeah, they are coming tomorrow. Her husband wants to, er, meet me. Then they can sign papers," I stuttered through. I was honestly a bit scared that they wouldn't want me once they found out about my…inconsistent diet.

She smiled, and reached over to hug me. I gently place an arm around her, before she pulled back and said,

"I need to go tell Bill! He'll be so happy…for you, of course," we both laughed. She and I knew very well that Bill didn't like me.

Mrs. Carlen stood and then turned to bend down to kiss me on the cheek before leaving.

* * *

The next day Bella and Edward came around ten. Edward was menacing. I, at 6'2, was about two inches taller than him, but he appeared a lot more muscled compared to me. He shook my hand. I quickly scanned his mind for powers. He too was mind reader.

I quickly threw up a brick wall in my mind, and focused on his thoughts.

_Hmmm…interesting kid. I can't read his mind._

He took in my, as Mrs. Carlen put it, 'street rat' appearance. I hadn't bothered to dress nicely. I was wearing the same black _The Clash_ t-shirt I wore when I was changed (it took a while to get the blood stains out, but boy did it smell like a forest), very tight gray jeans, and black converse that I had bought nearly twenty years ago. I hadn't been shopping in a while.

Mrs. Carlen suggested we go up to my room, and we all agreed, as it wouldn't be best for her to hear what we were discussing. They sat in two chairs from the kitchen table I had placed up there this morning, while I sat on Danny's old bed.

The both looked at the posters that plastered my five-foot-by-two-foot wall space between my bunk, and the bottom of Eric's. I have very old My Chemical Romance, Slipknot, Marilyn Manson, A.F.I., The Ramones, Misfits, and H.I.M. posters, ticket stubs from concerts as early as my first one when I was eight in 1979.

I fumbled with the cross around my neck (a nervous habit), feeling self conscious as they examined my living space. I quickly tucked it back into my shirt when I noticed Bella's eyes and thoughts on me.

"Those posters, and tickets; there from up to fifty years ago," Edward said out of the blue.

"Excellent observation," I searched in his mind for what he was thinking.

_How do the other people not notice how old these are? How did he explain it?_

Oh, that's where he was going. I waited patiently for him bring it up, not wanting to expose my own powers.

"Didn't anyone ever question why you owned posters, t-shirts, concert tickets that are so much older than you are?"

"Most of them don't pay attention to bands in that genre. For all they know these are current bands. Anything I couldn't explain away I just say my parents found in old record shops, which isn't a complete lie," they seemed to think this was a good enough alibi.

Seemingly done with pleasantries, Edward started asking me questions.

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen, or eighty-seven. I was changed seventy-two years ago, on between December 31 and January 1, 1986, in a subway tunnel under Time Square,"

"Do you remember anything of your human life?"

_Probably doesn't. Hardly anyone does._ Prepare to be shocked.

"I remember every minute of my human life," He and Bella looked at me shocked, perhaps expecting for me to yell 'psych!'.

"That's…odd," Edward was trying desperately to read my mind, "Do you mind telling us about it?"

"I am going to have to explain to the others, too, I assume? Can I just tell you then?"

"Of course, dear," Bella spoke for the first time, smiling her warm smile. I really did like her. Edward smiled too, briefly, and then asked if I had any special talents.

_Anthony seems like he would. Bella said there was something different about him. Now I get what she meant._

"Human blood doesn't particularly tempt me, and I can go a while without feeding,"

_Jasper will be jealous._

I paused slightly deciding whether or not to tell them about hearing thoughts. Before I could say anything Edward spoke again.

"How long have you gone without hunting before?"

"Nine months, I think. Mr. Carlen starting watching to make sure I didn't sneak out at night. So I had to wait a while," Their eyes widened with shock.

"And I take it you haven't always fed on animal?"

_Bella said something to that effect. We all slip, I suppose, and most of have fed on humans for a length of time._

"No, I usually feed depending on the area I'm in. Since I do prefer big cities, for a long time I did hunt mostly humans. I interned at a hospital and would sometimes take blood, but only if there was a type that was in surplus. I haven't fed from a human since I was caught and put here though,"

"How did you get here?" _New topic._

"I had been living in Seattle, on the streets. I don't like to buy apartments; don't like to leave traces of my presence. I had just, er, fed and I wasn't paying attention. A cop found me and brought me to the police. I told them my dad was in prison and my mom was dead. They sent me here,"

_Poor boy. I'm almost sure the stuff about his parents was true._ Bella's thoughts this time. I took a breath making a snap decision.

"Not exactly, Bella. My dad never went to prison," They looked at me shocked.

"Excuse me?"

"How you thought you were almost sure my dad was in prison and my mom dead. My dad never got caught,"

"How did you…" Bella trailed off before she could finish.

"You can read her thoughts?" Edward looked baffled, and slightly angry.

"Don't get all outraged. You can, too," I said. What did he think he was the only one with powers?

_Not hers I can't._

"Can you think of why you would be able to read minds?" Bella had gotten over the shock quickly, but was still unsettle about now having her thoughts on display.

"I think it was the world's sick joke. When I was human I was always alone, never had any friends, barely had parents, and I always wished so much to not be alone anymore. This is the world's way of giving me my wish," I smirked slightly.

Bella spoke after a few minutes silence.

"Well, we should go sign those papers," Bella stood, pulling Edward up with her although his thoughts were screaming that he wanted to know more. She turned to me smiling, "Why don't you pack up you stuff, Anthony?"

I nodded and they left. I could hear them whispering quietly. I sat on the bed, my head in my hands, kicking myself for agreeing to tell them about my time as a human.

Eventually I stood up and started taking down posters, and rolling them up and putting them in cardboard tubes. Once I had shoved them into a duffel with my CD collection, I shoved my minimal wardrobe into a plain black back pack. I sat down on the bed holding Bailey's hippo. My mind was whirling with what the Cullens might think. That they may not want me. I had never really thought about it, but now I realized I was a freak even among freaks.

_Join the club._ Edward. I hadn't blocking my thoughts.

A/N I will post the next chapter tomorrow. That one will have Anthony's full story in it. I had originally intended for him to meet the Cullens in this chaper, but then it would have been like twenty pages long. Review please!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N New Chapter woo! It took me a little longer, but technically I got it in at like 11:57, so that only counts as one day late. Enjoy and please, please, please review.

Disclaimer: Twilight isn't mine. But Alexander, the vampire and closet fairy wood elf (no one will get it but one person, so don't even bother), is all mine.

We're done signing the papers, so come down when you're ready

_We're done signing the papers, so come down when you're ready._ Edward seemed to be enjoying this silent communication.

I briefly let down my mental wall to respond.

_Mrs. Carlen wants to talk to you more. I'll be down when she's done. _

I lay back on my bunk, staring up at the bottom of the one above me. I listened carefully to what they were saying downstairs.

"It's so nice of you to take in Anthony. He's such a sweet boy, but he always gets passed over," Mrs. Carlen said, "Young couples want a younger kid, and couples that already have kids think he won't fit in. So sad,"

"Anthony seems very nice," Bella said, "Very clever. And when I came before the youngest girl, Bailey, seemed to really love him,"

"Yes," I could see in Bella's mind Mrs. Carlen smiling sadly, "Bailey was always very attached to him, ever since he came here. She grew up here, ever since she was a baby, and once Anthony came, she wouldn't leave his side. And he always took care of her, thought it was his job to protect her.

"Except he always seems distant. Always polite, always wiling to help out, but never wants to open up. Police said he had a real messy childhood. Dad is in prison; Mom is dead. Except his dads been locked up for seven, eight years, so god knows how long Anthony was homeless," she was shaking her head now, looking angry, "Never wanted to push him too much for details though,"

"Do you know what his Dad is in jail for?" Edward spoke up for the first time.

"I don't know, actually. Never wanted to ask Anthony. I have a feeling his dad wasn't the nicest guy though. Anthony was so skinny when he came here. And he never eats much, never gained weight, always says he doesn't have an appetite. When he does eat I can hear him throwing it back up later. He has pretty terrible health. But I could never get him to the doctor,"

There was a long dragging moment of silence.

_She's expecting us to be asking more trivial questions. _At least Edward finally realized it.

"When's his birthday?" I could tell Edward was trying to think of questions he would be expected to as.

"December 31. He would never let us get him anything though. Said he didn't like to make a big deal about it. I don't think I can remember the last time Anthony asked for money. Always said he'd gotten some when his mom died, but I doubt it was very much,"

_I have to admit, he did a good job of covering his tracks. _Edward.

"I take it you're planning on sending him to a high school?"

"Yes, it's a good school. The one Edward and I both went to," Bella, I could see her smiling through Edward's mind. "Has he been to a normal school before?"

"Not that I know of. I home schooled all of the kids here, and usually he would help me out. Said his mom had always home schooled him, although I assume there's a huge gap in his education between his fathers going to prison, and when he came here. Brilliant boy though,"

"Do you think he'll be able to do well in school? Will he fit in?" I could tell Bella was faking concern, although I was curious to see what Mrs. Carlen said.

"It's hard to tell. He's very smart so I don't think he'll have trouble with classes, but he is kind of…different. People tend to shy away from him,"

I decided now would be a good time to come down. I stuffed Bailey's hippo into my backpack before slinging it over one shoulder and picking up my duffel bag. After one last look around, I walked from the room, gently closing the door behind me.

I walked downstairs, and into the kitchen. Bella, Edward, and Mrs. Carlen stood up.

"We'll go wait in the car. It was lovely meeting you, Mrs. Carlen," She smiled warmly before pulling Edward out of the house.

Mrs. Carlen walked forward and hugged me. I returned it, still being careful not to crush her. She pulled away, and kissed my cheek, wiping at a stray tear.

"Bye, Anthony," she reached up and smoothed my hair, one last time as I picked up my bags and walked out of the door.

* * *

We had already driven out of town by the time anyone spoke.

"It is up to you, whether you want to go to school or not," Bella said, making conversation,

"I am going to have to fake my death again soon. I figure I'll finish high school then get in a tragic car accident,"

"You don't have to 'die', you know? You could go to college," Edward spoke up.

"It never works. I have gone to college before. I started, but had to drop out after the first year. I can barely pass for seventeen, let alone nineteen going on twenty. Too many people got suspicious,"

"That will work out, I think," Bella said, "We've been here for five years now, Edward and I are suppose to be twenty-six,"

"Mrs. Carlen will be devastated," Edward said, frowning at me in the mirror.

I said, my tone biting, "You think I don't know that? I would have had to do it soon anyway regardless of whether I was still living there or not," I softened my tone slightly, "It will be better this way. She won't have seen me for over a year, it won't be quite as…jarring,"

We were mostly quiet the rest of the way. About ten minutes away from their house, Bella told me a little about the rest of the Cullens.

There was Alice, who could see the future, and her husband Jasper, an empath. Carlisle, a doctor, and Esme were the parent figures. Emmett was basically a very large child, as Bella said, "Really huge, scary looking, but really sweet, like a teddy bear," Bella said Rosalie was "beautiful, and she knew it," but her thoughts were slightly more explicit.

Soon we were driving along a street lined on either side with moss-draped trees. We turned onto a dirt path that led us to a large, elaborate Victorian style house. It was odd, seeing as I had always grown up in tiny apartments, or tiny boarding houses, to imagine living in three-story mansion.

I got out of the car, collecting my two bags, and followed Bella and Edward into the house. The inside was spacious and airy. The entire first floor appeared to be one room, with a living room with two large sectionals, and a TV that was epically large, and probably not available to the public. It was probably Japanese. Another part of the room was dominated by a grand piano and I could see just beyond the living room, a kitchen with state of the art, most likely never used, appliances.

I could sense six new minds in the house.

_Oh dear they here already! I hoped to get just a bit more cleaning done. _

_I wonder if he would wrestle with me. Jasper and Edward have become distinctly predictable. _

_I've seen hardly anything of his future. It's so frustrating only going on what Bella deigned to share with us…grr._

_I wonder how he'll adjust to a new diet. It took me nearly a hundred years, and Bella said he isn't even ninety. _

_I hope he doesn't have any sensational powers. It gets frustrating being the only one without useful abilities. At least he won't be able to read minds, God know we don't need another Edward. _

I smirked slightly at the last one, and noticed Edward do the same. Rosalie, I guessed. I considered unblocking my mind to ask Edward, but I could hear them coming downstairs now.

I flashed my eyes over them taking in as many details as possible without appearing to be staring.

They all had the same honey eyes, varying in shades of darkness. The one I assumed was Carlisle had blonde hair and was conversing with Edward in his mind. Esme stood beside him, and I suddenly understood what they meant. She seemed to radiate warmth, and compassion. Alice was noticeable by her minimal height, over a foot shorter than me, and next to her was a young looking blonde man. Rosalie was, as Bella had described, gorgeous, and her husband, standing a good two inches taller than me, was rather scary. I held back a cringe just looking at the thick bands of muscle around his arms and torso. He and I could not be a bigger contrast.

Carlisle stepped forward, extending his hand.

"Anthony, I'm Carlisle," I took his hand, tentatively shaking it.

"Err, my name isn't actually Anthony. It's Alexander," I said, trying not to sound cold or harsh.

"Alexander then,"

Esme stepped forward offering her hand. I took it and she smiled warmly introducing herself. The rest of the introductions went a lot like this, smiling and welcoming me. Rosalie was a bit stiff, but polite.

"I'll show you where you can put your things," the short one, Alice said. I nodded, and followed her up the stairwell.

"You don't have a lot of bags," she commented, "Do you have more in the car?"

"Nope," I was going to stop there, but decided to try at conversation, "I don't own a lot of clothes, and most of the clothes I do own are…older,"

_Dear God._

We got to a room on the third floor, one just beside the very end of the corridor. I didn't fail to notice the wooden cross hanging on the wall below. I made a note to figure out it's history, it looked old.

"You're right next to Bella and Edward," she smiled as she opened the door.

The room was large, the walls a creamy off-white, and a black couch pushed up against one wall. The bed had black sheets, and was positioned so it faced a wall entirely made of windows. White and black pinstriped drapes pooled slightly on the floor on either side of the wall. A large stereo system and shelving unit was on anther wall. Thankfully, there was a lot of empty wall space, plenty of room for my posters. I'd barely been able to display a fifth of my collection at the old house.

I smiled genuinely at Alice.

"Thank you. It's amazing,"

_I knew he'd like it. _

"Get settled in, but be downstairs again soon. Everyone's itching to talk to you," she smiled a grin I didn't trust, but gracefully loped out of the room without another word.

I sat my bags on the bed, and put away my minimal wardrobe in the closet, before taking out a roll of painters tape. Finally being aloud to move at my full speed I was able to put up my entire collection of posters, wall scrolls, wall flags, ticket stubs, and other miscellaneous things up within fifteen minutes. I shoved my bags to the back of the closet and sat on the bed, taking in my handiwork. I lay back, satisfied, and closed my eyes.

A knock came at the door, and soon Edward walked in. He smirked as he looked around.

"That didn't take you long,"

"No, it didn't," I smiled slightly, sitting up.

"I take it you're planning to stay then?"

I felt an unanticipated feeling of sadness. I should've known this wasn't permanent.

I took down the brick wall around my mind.

_Not if I'm not wanted_

Edwards face showed surprise.

_Of course you're wanted. You can stay here as long as you want. Forever if you so choose. _

He smiled at me, the first time I had genuinely seen him happy.

"Come on the others are waiting and eager,"

As we walked down the stairs I put back up the block in my head.

_Why do you always do that?_

"Don't like people in my head,"

Before he could respond we were downstairs, and Bella was looking at us curiously. Edward sat down next to Bella, and I took the seat on the sofa's edge. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Did you have questions you wanted to ask me?" I started. I think I have instigated more conversations today then in my life total.

"Yes," Carlisle said, "May I ask how old you are?"

"I'm technically fifteen, but I'm actually closer to eighty-seven,"

"When were you changed?" Alice piped in.

"January first nineteen eighty-six," I provided, to slightly astonished looks. They really weren't helping my whole 'I don't like to talk to people' thing.

"How can you remember a date?" Alice asked, still slightly shocked.

"I don't know." I said, pausing slightly, "…wizards?"

_You're not very good at this. _Thanks Edward, I hadn't noticed.

"Anth-er-Alexander, remembers a lot of his human life," Bella interjected helpfully.

"That's odd," Carlisle said, "Where did you live as a human? Where were you changed?"

"I lived in New York. I was changed in a subway tunnel underneath Time Square, right as they counted down the New Year,"

"Do you mind telling us about your human life?" Edward asked, making sure I made good on the promise I made to tell them earlier today.

"Err, sure. I was born in New York. Didn't have the fluffiest upbringing," I said, trying to phrase it as delicately as possible, "My dad didn't like to use his words, if you know I mean. Ever since I could remember he beat up my mom and I," This received a few gasps.

_Poor boy. Who could hurt a child?_

_Didn't have the fluffiest upbringing? That's the understatement of the century. _

"My dad killed my mom when I was nine. My mom had snuck me out to go to a concert with her. He had gotten back earlier than anticipated, and started beating up on my mom. I tried to stop him, but that just made him angrier. Next thing I knew he was shaking me awake at three am screaming at me that if I told anyone he'd kill me, too." More gasps of shock. Jeez, get over it. I did.

"He never went to prison, never got caught. I have no clue what he did with her, what he told the police. He wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the block. Impressive really, cried like a baby at the funeral, pretended to give a crap. But after that he went back to living like before. It was just he and I for the next six years. He didn't change. Kept getting drunk and violent, only he was angrier,"

"Why didn't you tell the police?" Emmett asked. Because I found something better than the police. He didn't deserve to just go to prison. He deserved to die. I quickly strung together a used lie.

"I couldn't bring myself to care enough. I was used to it. My entire life was basically just a countdown to getting to leave at eighteen,"

"Why were you in the subway tunnels at midnight?" Edward asked.

I had hoped they wouldn't catch onto that. Or wouldn't pay any attention. I suppose I could lie.

_If he lies, I'll be able to tell. _The thought was clearly meant for Edward, but was much more significant to me.

"I had come into contact with someone. I was going to meet them," I skirted the issue, hopefully without notice.

"Who was it?" Jasper finally spoke. He smirked slightly at forcing me to stop being evasive. I sighed before replying.

"He was a guy I'd heard of from one of my friends. Not as classy as an assassin, but not as slummy as an undertaker,"

I waited as they processed what I was saying. It was almost like their thoughts coordinated.

_He was going to kill his father._

A/N Now you know pretty much all of Alexanders human history. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Sorry, it's been a few days since I update. I've been busy-ish. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own Alexander, and his kick-butt name(you'll see), and I own the band Shallow Souls. Not bad for a day's work. Twilight? Still not mine, but someday.

_Previously_

_I waited as they processed what I way saying. __It was almost like their thoughts coordinated._

_**He was going to kill his father.**_

Chapter Six

I waited unit their various states of shocked calmed. Carlisle was the first to pull himself together enough to speak.

"What actually happened when you were changed?"

"I was waiting for the train, and suddenly, he was there. Threw me around a little, had a good time taunting me, then he bit me. I don't think he intended to change me, but somebody was coming and he just left,"

"How did you get away?" Carlisle asked, face calm. Thoughts not.

"I hid in an alcove along the tunnel. Three days later I woke up, and got as far away as possible,"

"How did you stay there without anyone noticing?"

"I was good at hiding. I was always real skinny, and even though I was tall I could get into confined spaces pretty well,"

"But most transformations are very painful," Carlisle said.

"I know, I was there," I said.

"What Carlisle is saying is, that usually it involves a lot of screaming," Rosalie said, impatient.

"Oh, that wasn't a problem. I was used to enduring pain quietly," I said offhandedly.

_He is odd. _Carlisle.

_Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick! When I was changed there wasn't a soul in miles who didn't hear. _Emmett's thoughts were certainly less scary than he was.

_I couldn't imagine having to go through that in silence. _Jasper.

_Glad I don't remember my transformation! _

I waited, yet again, for their thoughts to settle. I ran a hand through my hair, a headache quickly forming. You wouldn't think handling just two more people's thought would make a difference, but it did. Or maybe it was just because they were all about me.

Carlisle suddenly remembered an important question. Hmm, what to say to that.

"Do you have any abilities?"

"I can go a long time without hunting. Human blood doesn't have quite the same draw as it does to most others," I didn't mention the mind reading yet. For some reason I wasn't comfortable letting them know about that quite-

"Alexander can read minds as well," Edward said. Well that solves that problem. I put down my mental wall just long enough to say one thing.

_Jackass. _

There were varying reactions from the rest of the Cullens. From dread and repulsion.

_You have got to be kidding me. _Rosalie.

To an odd excitement.

_Now I get to talk to you in my head too Alexander! _But I had an odd feeling it didn't take much to excite Alice.

"Now, Alexander, I assume you know that you will not be able to feed from humans while you reside here,"

"I gave up human blood several years ago,"

_Several years ago? _

"How long is several?" Rosalie's tone was biting.

"Two," I answered to slightly disgusted looks of those around me. Christ, get off your high horses. "I always fed from animals and humans on and off, but only had to feed every five months or so,"

"And you believe you will be able to... contain yourself?" Carlisle asked, still calm.

"Of course,"

_Well the, welcome to the family._

* * *

I've been here three days now. Bella went to enroll me at the high school today. I felt oddly eager to be starting high school again. I had only gotten halfway through freshman year before I lost my humanity.

So far I was enjoying it here. Esme reminded me a lot of my mother (only minus the whole punk rocker thing), and Carlisle was like a father figure. Alice liked to talk to me in her mind a lot and was perpetually cheery, while Jasper was more quiet around me. I could hear in his mind that he wasn't comfortable being around me, nothing personal, it was just he hadn't gotten used to my emotional balance yet. Emmett had bugged me to wrestle with him, and after two attempts where the moment he lunged at me I was one hundred yards away in a tree, he gave up. Now he settled to trying to get me to play Crazy Taxi with him, which was much more successful. Rosalie was beginning to stand me.

On my second day I went with Edward to find myself a car. I got a used black Honda. I only spent half of what I brought, and was wholly satisfied with my purchase. Rosalie was mildly disgusted.

I was currently lying on my bed listening to Slipknot (at what I thought was a perfectly reasonable volume). After Rosalie walked in, pressed stop, and took the CD out, I decided it might be best to go for a hunt. Edward had been bugging me to do so. Even though I knew it was going to be a problem, he still was convinced I was going suck the whole school dry.

After an hour I was finished. Not quite ready to go back yet, I climbed into a tree a mile or so from the house.

I hadn't had the chance to just be alone and think for the past three days. I was constantly berated by eight peoples thoughts twenty-four hours a day. The trivial thoughts weren't so bad because I could tune them out. Alice had taken to bugging me, not only verbally, but also mentally about the clothes I wore. Everyday I'd been here, including my first day here, she berated me for my constant uniform of black.

I pulled a music player from my pocket and selected music by Shallow Soul **(Made up band of the future)**. I leaned my head against the tree and sat listening for hours. I looked down to change the song and realized it was already six thirty in the morning. With a mumbled curse, I jumped from the tree landing in a crouch. I ran back to the house, and up to my room. My first day at Forks High School started in an hour.

Guess I stayed in that tree a little long. It had started drizzling while I was up in the tree and was now pouring. After asking Alice, I determined it would more or less be pouring rain all day.

I stripped off the shirt I was wearing and pulled on a long sleeved HIM shirt. I changed into a pair of black skinny jeans, and pulled on a pair of boots with a lot of buckles and laces on them. I studied myself in the mirror. My hair had grown slightly in the change, and was now nearly shoulder length. I considered whether leaving it down would make me less conspicuous.

_That's a lost cause. _Edward chimed in. I had stopped blocking my thoughts on the second day. _Especially if you insist on wearing all that black. _

_Wow, thanks. _Sighing I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Shrugging into a black coat, I grabbed my bag and walked out.

Esme was sitting on the couch when I walked down.

"Have a good first day, Alexander. Don't get into trouble,"

I nodded and walked out, locking the door behind me. I got into my car and sped out on to the main road. Carefully monitoring police activity, I sped up gradually until I reached one-twenty. The high school wasn't hard to find. It didn't look like any high school I'd ever seen, but that was probably because I hadn't gone to school since I attended PS 112 seventy-two years ago.

There was a cluster of about nine red brick buildings. I found the student lot quickly and parked in one of the empty spaces. I kept my head down as I walked over to the front office. There were only a few student here now, so no one noticed me steal across the lot. I opened the door quietly and padded over to the front desk. The receptionist there was young. Her hair was dyed blonde and she looked to be in her early twenties.

_Hmmm…I'll have to get those forms to the teachers about the budget reduction…and I still need to get the papers for the new student toget-_

"Pardon me," I spoke up finally.

_Wha-_

The receptionist looked up and her eyes widened.

"Oh, you must be the new Assistant Teacher for Mr. Colsefinni. He's in building nine,"

_Creepy guy. Pretty hot under all the black though. _I rolled my eyes internally.

"No, I'm a new student. I'm Alexander Kline," I replied softly.

_Oh jeez. I still don't have all of his things together._

She plastered on a fake smile, and began fumbling through papers on her desk. I took the opportunity to look down to her nameplate.

**Ms. Karen Price**

"Okay," Ms. Price said, straightening a pile of papers, "Here's your, er, schedule. And a map of the school. There are slips for each of your teachers to sign," I accepted the papers, and she slid another form to me.

"You're actually missing your age and date of birth on your information form. Can you fill that in for me?" Bella must have left it blank in case I decided to be an older student. It was very nice of her.

I scrawled my age and then my birthday, stopping briefly to do the math on when I should have been born. Age: 15; Birth date (dd/mm/yyyy): 1/1/2043

I handed it back to her, but she slid it back.

"Do you not have a middle name?" I could see in her mind that she was waiting eagerly to tell the whole town about the nameless bat that had invaded her office.

"Oh yeah, sorry," I paused slightly. I was already using my real first and last name, how could it hurt to put my middle name, too.

I slowly printed my middle name, careful not to drag my hand through the wet ink (curse my left handedness). Name (printed): First: Alexander; Last: Kline; Middle: Vladimir

My mom was really in to vampires.

I slid her the form and waited as she read the paper through.

_Is he making this up? Alexander Vladimir Kline?_

"Vladimir? Are you Russian or something?" Ms. Price had clearly thrown any student-faculty cordiality out the window.

"No," I replied, dropping any pretense of respect.

_Man he's scary. Weren't his eyes different a minute ago? Eyes aren't suppose to be black._

"Er, okay, and you've been home schooled the past nine years?"

"Yes," I said, attempting to gentle my tone. I didn't succeed.

"So you don't have a transcript in the school records?"

"No, I don't,"

"Okay," she said, "that's all I need then,"

_Thank god. One more minute and he might have sucked my blood._

I smirked humorlessly as I walked out into the now nearly full school yard.

_Sorry lady, you wouldn't taste good._

A/N Okay, I hope you liked that chapter. I will go into good detail about his first day in the next chapter, which I will post soon. Please review! I only got three reviews last time...sad. ;;


	7. Chapter 7

A/N I am so sorry it has been so long. My computer like exploded and I lost all of my word documents including this chapter. I spent several hours getting my computer back into working condition and then another fruitless four trying to regain this chapter, but eventually surendered and just rewrote it. Enjoy.

The bell rang as I sloshed across the parking lot

The bell rang as I sloshed across the parking lot. It was now full of other used and secondhand vehicles in varying bland shades of red, green, and blue. Nearly everyone was inside already, but there were still quite a few people who's heads followed me, not so discreetly.

I reached the covered path that lead to building four, and, among the stares of my new peers, walked into Mr. Finley's APEC (**AP European Civilizations**) class, room 457. I followed in two girls who hung their jackets on hooks near the door. I grudgingly slid off my own coat and walked to the teacher's desk.

Finally he noticed me and looked up, taking in my appearance critically.

_Oh, yes the new boy. A- something. Allen? Aaron? No. _

"I'm Alexander," I said sliding him the slip to sign. He scrawled a signature, and then pointed me to a seat in the back. I trudged down the aisle of "surreptitious" stares and dropped into the desk, dropping my messenger bag down next to me.

The chair next to me scraped gratingly as the girl scooted away. My eyes flashed to her, hidden by my bangs. She clearly was trying to amuse her friend, as her gaze held mild disgust, but I could still smell fear.

_He had better stay away from me. I swear to god I will shoot myself before I kiss him. _

Whoa, hon. I'm the classy type. You better buy me dinner first.

The other student thoughts were similar but not quite as amusing.

_What the hell is HIM? _

_There is no way he is fifteen. Satan doesn't take such young a form. _

_Hmmm, I should talk to him. See what I can spread around. Mary will want to hear all about it. _

Eventually the teacher called the class to order, but most thoughts remained on me. I attempted to focus on the teacher and not the thoughts around me. They were talking about the history and customs of Scandinavians, leading into when they traveled down to pillage the coasts of Europe.

I took diligent notes, despite having learned most of it seventy years ago. I found it an astoundingly good distraction from my peers. The bell rang an hour later and I walked over to English Literature.

After signing my piece of paper, the teacher explained that they were spending this semester reading American Classics. After handing me a copy of Huckleberry Finn, she sent me to a seat very close to the front. She began the class, and felt the need to draw more attention to my presence.

"Class, we have a new student today. Would you like to introduce yourself?" she asked me, talking like I was a small child about to eat paste.

"No thanks," I said, returning to my page in Huckleberry Finn

_God, another moron. This one looks like he might have too much cocaine in him to form coherent sentences. _

I had dabbled in cocaine briefly seventy-two years ago. Not my thing.

"Well, then I suppose we will go over last nights focus questions," she dug through a folder and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper she handed to me. I followed along at first, but my attention quickly dwindled.

"Alexander, have you read the book before?" the teacher had apparently sensed my lack of interest, and was looking to make a fool of me,

"Yes,"

"Well, then you wouldn't mind tackling number six for us,"

I quickly looked over the question.

Briefly state an ongoing theme throughout the book that is most apparent to you.

I contained an eye roll. Mrs. Carlen had used the same questions three years ago.

"The most apparent ongoing theme was that through out the book any large group of people never succeeds, and generally are presented in such a way as to seem wrong about whatever conflict it is they are involved,"

There was silence in the room. Most of the people were convince I had gotten the question wrong due to the fact most didn't understand my answer.

"Errr, that's correct," the teacher quickly moved on, and soon we were through with the questions. We were assigned to silently read the next three chapters until the end of class, and given more of those focus questions to complete for homework.

I had math next. Algebra ¾. I was always good at math, even when I was human. I had been half way through this class when the proverbial scales tipped out of my favor.

The teacher seemed okay enough. She was young, maybe mid twenties, with dark brown hair, and odd greenish-brown-blue-yellow eyes covered by thick black-framed lenses. She was dressed in gray skinny jeans and wore a blue flannel shirt open over a black Metallica t-shirt.

"Alexander?" she asked as her left hand scrawled across the signature line. I nodded. "I'm Ms. Ramone. Until about a month ago you could have call me Joey, but the principal decided it was too casual," Ms. Ramone smiled.

"Real name?" I asked. Now that I looked her hair was styled slightly like one preferred by the singer in the late seventies.

"Yeah, my parents thought it was utterly hip," she raised an eyebrow, "Although not many people notice anymore, since he died fifty-seven years ago,"

I shrugged and headed to a seat she pointed to. People had mostly filed in and I recognized a few of them, although most of them were sophomores, scattered with the occasional junior, and freshmen.

Ms. Ramone ended up being a pretty good teacher. She appeared to know what she was talking about and spent most of the class explaining a series of equations and theorems. Despite calling out the occasional student, she allowed light talking, and often contributed to the utterly off topic ramblings.

The end of class brought one or two relieved sighs, but mostly groans of remorse. I trudged to German where the teacher, after finding out that I was already fluent in German, asked me to introduce myself in the language.

"Hallo mein Name ist Alexander. Ich komme aus Seattle." I said, keeping it simple only saying, 'Hello my name is Alexander. I come from Seattle".

After taking notes, and a few 'practice conversations' with my neighbors, the bell rang for lunch. Edward had stressed that I attempt to seem normal, so I waited in the lunch line. I picked up a pop and an apple, paid for it, and sat at an empty corner table. I pulled out my MP5 player and put an ear bud in on ear. I was careful to occasionally unscrew the lid of my pop and pretend to drink some. I busied my hands picking ragged chunks out of the apple with my nails.

A student walked over and sat across from me; a boy with brown shaggy hair, and gray eyes. He looked a little like I did when I was human. His eyes locked with mine briefly, before speaking.

"I'm Eril," I nodded silently, staring, "This is my table. You can still sit here, I just am going to sit here, too," he smiled slightly, pulling out a book and k-Gig (**my future version of the i-Pod. Clever, no?)**

"I'm Alexander," Eril looked up, smiling and nodding briefly.

We sat in comfortable silence the rest of the time, busy with our own activities.

Eventually the bell rang and I stood up, nodding a silent farewell before walking to the gym. I handed the piece of paper to my coach to sign and was handed a uniform, a lock, and a locker number.

"You can sit out today," he said gruffly, chomping on a piece of fowl smelling gum.

_This is nowhere near as good as tobacco. _

I watched as my fellow students jog around playing a pathetic attempt at indoor football. But eventually I was allowed to leave for science, and after enduring an hour of chemistry, I was released. It was pouring, and I hurried as fast as humanly acceptable through the parking lot.

I got into the car tossing my bag onto the seat next to me. I turned the key and Eyes Closed (**another fake band**) blared out of the speakers. Leaning my slightly damp head against my seat, I closed my eyes waiting for traffic to clear slightly.

Eventually I sped out of the lot, for quite possibly the first time, eager to get back to the Cullens.

A/N Review. I deserve it.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N This is the next chapter. It will eat your soul.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but Alexander. Sweet, sweet Alexander.

I pulled up the drive and sat in my car for a moment, listening to the downpour outside. After pondering the thought, I decided to take a drive around town.

_Edward? _I called in my mind, hoping he was paying attention.

_Yes?_

_I'm going to drive around awhile. I'll be back soon. _

_Okay. _He seemed almost amused. Weird.

After a few moments, I realized what had caused Edward's mirth. Being the observant person that I am, it didn't take long to realize this town was limited to a grocery store, pharmacy, hospital, and miniscule library. Other than that, suburban neighborhoods, the occasional children playground, and green dominated the "town".

It had taken some getting used to when I had made the choice to switch locations from New York City, to the considerably smaller Seattle. Where as towering apartments, skyscrapers, and businesses dominated New York, the part of Seattle I had been fostered in was downright suburban. But at least they had pretty much the same to offer entertainment wise; record, books, and media stores, movie theatres, etc.

If that had been jarring, I'm surprised Forks hasn't given me cardiac arrest. The trees here outnumbered even the immense number of Duane Reades that could be found on every corner of New York City.

Soon I ended up at a tiny record store, one that I didn't quite believe was actually there when I first saw it. Didn't seem like there would be much of a market for than in Forks I pulled into a spot right in front (only two others were taken), and walked in. The shop was empty except for what appeared to be the owner, and a cashier who I recognized as a junior in my APEC class.

I walked quickly back to the miniscule table that held records. There was one or two Guns n' Roses, a few Aerosmith, a larger number of Beatles, and several copies of Under Pressure mixed in with other familiar names. All of it I already owned or didn't care about. Pity.

I moved on to a larger shelf of cassette tapes. After recognizing that it was mostly made of '90s pop, and boy bands, that shelf was left in the dust. I finally found a section that was devoted to CDs, and was extremely satisfied. Although there wasn't much I didn't already own, I still found three CDs to purchase, and brought my items up to the counter.

I waited patiently for a few minutes until the child finally looked up. Recognition flashed in his eyes preceding a good long stare. I met his eyes stonily. I knew mine were black now, but my eyes almost always were. They only stayed topaz for a few days after feeding from animals, maybe a week if I had drank from humans.

Eventually his eyes broke away and I slid him my CDs.

_That's the weird new kid that Becky told Mary about. I think he's in one of my classes…_

"You new here?" he asked. I peered quickly down to his nametag.

**Hello my name is :** _**Jared**_

"Yes," I replied. Jared had begun totaling the cost of my purchase on an ancient cash register, and wasn't succeeding, muttering curse words that even a human would have been able to here. After a minute or two he just started smashing buttons hoping it would magically know his will. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door flew open and the bells above it began crashing wildly. A few drips of water flew in and the howling of wind outside could be heard, before the door was shut.

"Jared, whose car is that? Is Blott finally getting the heater fix-" the person broke off when they saw me. I turned to see the person and recognized him as Errol. He registered my presence there, and nodded briefly.

"Hey Errol, the register is being all wonky again," Jared said, clearly relieved to no longer be alone with me.

_Trust me, it's not the register thats 'wonky'. Christ he can barely tell time, let alone calculate change._

Errol rolled his eyes before walking behind the counter and pressing a few buttons. He rang up my purchases quickly, and looked up.

"That'll be 21.67, Alexander," I handed him the money. Errol smiled briefly when Jared looked between us confused, and then stalked into the back storeroom.

"Sorry about him, not the brightest bulb in the box," he apologized.

"No," I said, sarcastically feigning surprise. Errol chuckled briefly before handing me a double wrapped bag with my CDs in it. I started to leave, but then turned back.

"You don't happen to have 'I want to break free' do you? By Queen, the original record single?" I asked. I had been searching for a while, and doubted I would find it here.

"Yeah we have it in the back, I'll grab it," Wow. He came back a second later holding the record in its original slip.

"Mr. Blott will be disappointed it's gone. There are stashes of boxes in the back we can't put out. Not that anyone really cares, you're our first customer all week," Errol said accepting my twenty dollar bill to pay for the record.

"I imagine. Probably not a hopping business in this small of a town," I replied, the longest thing I'd said all day.

"You have an excellent imagination,"

* * *

I went gone to one of the parks and just sat in my car for a while, listening to my recently acquired CDs over and over. Eventually I decided I would have to go home eventually, so I started my car and merged onto the freeway going ninety. By the time I pulled into the drive it was long dark, and still raining.

I sloshed up to the door and entered. I could tell everyone had gone out hunting, but Edward, Bella, Alice, and Jasper. Bella was sitting on the couch reading and smile when I walked in.

"Hey," she said, "How was your first day?"

"Good," I said. I wasn't going to say anymore, but her face was expectant and I hated disappointing Bella. "I found all of my classes well, and avoided ever having to stand up and introduce myself," I faltered slightly, "In English at least," Bella raised a dark eyebrow.

"Don't tell me your idea of being subtle is pretending to only speak Mandarin? Does all of Forks High only know you as the nameless, mysteriously Chinese boy?" she asked, cracking up half way through.

I sighed, smiling faintly, "No. My German teacher had me introduce myself in German. She was very excited to hear I was fluent."

_He speaks German? Where in the world would he pick that up?_

"Among other languages, yes," I said. She stared at me blankly for a moment before clapping a hand to her forehead.

"Sixty-nine years of private thoughts has lulled me into a sense of complacency," She seemed to be waiting for the answer to her second question, but didn't ask any further when it did not come.

I sat down on the couch opposite to her, and started rummaging through my bag for Huckleberry Finn. My eyes moved fruitlessly over the pages, my mind clouded with other things. I remember having to read this book when Mrs. Carlen was teaching me, and then reading it to Bailey, trying to explain things she didn't understand, and editing things out I didn't want to explain.

Eventually I gave up reading and leaned my head against the couch, closing my eyes. Edward came in a few moments later and sat next to Bella, wrapping an arm around her thin shoulders. After repeating the same pleasantries I had with Bella he asked something different.

"I take it you didn't talk to anyone you didn't have to?"

I quickly scanned through my day, knowing I had avoided all contact, but was surprised to find I had talked to someone.

"No, I talked to one boy. No one else though," I could tell Edward had been scanning my day with me. I found him going over my conversations with Errol, once at lunch and again at the record store, over and over again.

_What are you on about? _I thought to him. He looked up surprised. Edward clearly didn't like having another mind reader in the house.

_Nothing. _His thoughts were curt, and after he clearly tried to block his mind, but failed dismally.

I walked upstairs to my room, and began on the math homework I was expected to complete. Mrs. Carlen had never been much of a math person and had basically had me teach myself. Because of this, it was the first time in a while that I have done math sheets or problems, and was happily surprised by how quickly my mind could process it.

All through my homework, (which after math I started doing at vampire speed) I couldn't help but wonder what Edward was thinking about earlier. Why had he been so interested with Errol? I didn't get it, nor did I like it much.

I distantly heard Edward chuckled downstairs followed by an exchanged with Bella, but was too busy with science to care enough to listen.

Edward's POV (**very briefly**)

I heard Alexander doing easy equations upstairs. He seemed slightly boggled at how easy they were for him. After that I could hear him pondering my thoughts about the Errol person and how he didn't like or get them. I chuckled out loud, and Bella turned her head to me, her eyes curious.

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

"Oh nothing. It's just despite being older than you, Alexander is still young in a lot of ways,"

"You're not going to tell me what that means are you," It wasn't a question.

"You've known me far too long," I replied leaning down slightly to press my lips to her hair.

Alexander's POV (**I think I was about to get an OC seperation anxiety attack**)

A few moments later, Alice walked in and laid down next to my on the bed where I was writing. She just sat there for a few moments watching.

"How come I don't know anything about you?" she asked, her face still perfectly calm.

"You found out more about me in about a half hour the day I came here, than my foster parents did after three years," I said incredulous.

"No I mean stuff that isn't so...heavy," she said "You know a ton about me. Your always in my thoughts and every now and then I thrown in randon Alice Facts for good measure, but I don't know any random Alexander Facts about you."

It was true. Just from her random daily thoughts I had learned a lot of her vampire life, how she was changer and how she met Jasper. Not to mention the trivial things that I now know were 'Alice Facts', such as her love of pink, Louis Vuitton, and wishing she could remember what chocolate tastes like.

"What do you want to know?" I asked, guarded, trying hard to keep that out of my face, and the coldness out of my voice.

"We'll start small, just one or two things a day," Alice sat thinking for a moment. "I see you like music a lot?"

I nodded. _That one doesn't count since I was taking a guess, not actually asking a question. Besides you didn't even give a verbal answer. _She thought to me. I chuckled lightly.

"What's your favorite song?" she asked, after a few moments thoughts.

"I don't like to have favorites," I responded. Alice rolled her eyes, before saying.

"Okay name a few of your top songs,"

"The whole album American Idiot by Green Day because the transitions made it very cohesive, Vermillion parts 1 and 2 by Slipknot, Famous Last Words, Cancer, and Sleep by My Chemical Romace, Sheenas a Punk Rocker by the Ramones, and Help by the Beatles,"

"I have heard of very few of those," Alice said after a moment of awed silence. "But that will do it for today. Carry on."

_I can see the makings of a daily tradition and a beautiful friendship. _Alice thought as she shut the door.

A/N Review. Or I will eat your soul. Souls make a mighty fine snack with ketchup. Everything is better with ketchup. Except for onions. You can't improve on that kind of perfection.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N Next chapter!! Woo! Always pay very close attention to the Alice questions. They help you to learn more about Alexander, too. Stuff Maggie (er...Bill...Bob...Joe...Mysterious Author whose name we do not mention?) is not subtle enough to put in the story any other way. Only four reviews on the last two chapters. You disappoint me. ;;

Disclaimer: Once upon a time there was a land where magic reigned and everyone were wizards and princesses and princes. There was no evil in the world.

But then global warming came.

I own nothing.

Chapter:

Probably the best part of living here was that I no longer had to lie in a bunk for ten hours on average pretending to sleep, plagued by my own thoughts. Since everyone in the house was paired off except for me, I spent a lot of the night playing music attempting to drown out their various activities. Mostly I sat alone listening to music, reading, or on the Internet.

Tonight however I ventured downstairs where Bella and Edward were debating over something or other. I sat down on the couch opposite, and, after a few seconds argument, learned that they were debating over what movie to watch. Edward was vying for Batman Begins and Dark Knight (**no worries, no spoilers. I haven't seen it, so shh!**) and Bella for several animated movies. Cheering silently for Edward to win, he turned to me, and asked my opinion, already knowing I would side with him.

"Batman," Bella sighed, pouting slightly, but I could see in her mind she wasn't too put out.

The movies were long, and a good distraction. I had always enjoyed superhero movies. One of the highlights of my vampire existence had been the years from about 2005 to 2015 when there had been a surge of comic book based movies.

By the end of the two movies it was five in the morning. Bella and Edward drifted up their room, leaving me alone. I trudged up to my room and put on a slower CD.

Alone, I was prone to thoughts I rather wouldn't think. To counteract that I immersed myself in memories of happier times. Times that weren't so lonely.

* * *

The next day started out similar to the first. I got to school later and sat in my car until the bell rang. I took notes in APEC and amused myself during lulls in the lectures by just staring coldly at the girl next to me, and looking away right as she noticed.

English was next and, yet again, I left feeling as though I had lost a great number of IQ points. Today we conquered more focus questions and then endured a few student presentations. After class Mrs. Podmore informed me that eight students presented for each book we read (a rather depressing omen for how fast we would be reading each book considering there are only thirty-two people in the class) and I would be presenting on the last book we read. Due to either poor planning on her part or laziness, the class voted on the final book of the year, so I wouldn't know what I was presenting on until we decided. If I was one of these slow, quite frankly, dim witted humans I would be very perturbed.

Glorious relief came in the form of Algebra ¾. I wholly enjoyed the class and even braved speaking twice. Once was to correct a problem Ms. Ramone had done wrong.

The second time was one of my first conversations with another student. The girl next to me was looking at the board like it was in Greek, and kept running her hand through her hair in frustration. She looked as though she was on the verge of tears, so I decided to offer assistance.

"Er, do you need help?" At first she just stared at me. Then she nodded vigorously. I attempted a smile and found it easier than anticipated. After explaining to her why you couldn't transfer the formula from yesterdays lesson to this series of equations she looked much calmer.

"I'm Clara," she said, smiling. Clara had hazel eyes and long light brown hair. Her face was frequently spotted with freckles, and her teeth were a bit crooked, but she was still pretty.

"Alexander," I offered, again attempting a smile that I hoped didn't look forced.

"That's my little brother's name, too. He's eight," she said, clearly trying to start conversation.

_I feel bad. I meant to say hello yesterday, but my complete ineptness at math distracted me._

"I have no connections to your name, but it's a nice one," I said, hoping she was able to take friendly sarcasm. Clara chuckled, and returned her eyes to the now lecturing Ms. Ramone.

_He's kind of cute. I hope he doesn't think I'm a total moron for not getting this._

I chuckled silently. Soon the lesson ended and the bell rang. On the way to German, Clara caught up to me and fell in to stride beside me. I slowed slightly since she was having trouble keeping up with me. I noticed now how short she was; probably only 5'3.

_God, he must think I am so weird just walking next to him, and not saying anything._ I wished that I could assure her "It's okay, I enjoy silence."

"Your in my German class," she said, attempting to explain. I smiled slightly, craning my neck slightly in order to see her face below mine. "Can I ask what The Used and My Chemical Romance are?"

What? It took me a moment to realize she was talking about my bag, and the t-shirt I was wearing.

"Their bands from over forty years ago," I explained, chuckling slightly, "It's okay, not many people get it."

Clara and I shared a laugh as we entered the German room, and parted ways to our separate desks.

Yet again, the teacher was utterly amazed by my knowledge of more than just pleasantries. I don't think she has quite gotten used to having someone in the class with knowledge of the language. Whenever she got bored of teaching or wanted to annoy students she would blabber senselessly in German to answer their questions. Once, in reply to the question "Is German a Romance language?" she said _"Ich habe einen Bleistift Schärfer in meiner Hose."_

Literally translated that means "I have a pencil sharpener in my pants." To which most kids replied with thoughts of wonder that one day they too could baffle people with their foreign speech. So young and naïve.

Finally the bell rang and Clara walked over to me again.

"Do you know what she said earlier? In German, when Josh asked if it was a Romance language? That boy was never very bright," she asked, getting slightly flustered.

"Oh, she said that she had a pencil sharpener in her pants," I said, completely straight faced.

"No shit?" Clara said.

_Oh jeez, I hope he isn't trying to make a fool out of me._

"No shit. You can look is up. "Ich habe einen Bleistift Schärfer in meiner Hose." I said. She stared at me blankly for a minute and then burst into laughter. Clara's mirth continued nearly to the lunchroom, and by the time we got there her face was red from laughter.

"I guess I'll see you later then," Clara said awkwardly.

"Yeah," I said, before she turned to walk over to another table, all of which's occupants were staring incredulously. I hid a chuckle as I purchased an orange and water and walked over the table I had occupied yesterday.

Errol was already sitting there, and looked up from his book when I sat down.

"Hey," he said before returning to his book. I pulled out my k-Gig, and was about to start listening when Errol closed his book.

"Do you have a name other than Alexander?" he asked.

"You mean like a code-name? Would you like to call me Alpha-Rooster?" I asked, straight faced. I had perfected the art of sarcasm over the past eighty something years.

Errol rolled his eyes before saying, "No, like a nickname. Alex, or Al, or Andy,"

"Do I look like an 'Al'?"

"Well Alexander is so long. In that same number of syllables I could say 'I am hungry' or 'Watch out for bears'," he said, "I'm just asking if there is anything shorter. Perhaps with the syllabic equivalence of apple or hobbit," I chuckled.

"You can call me anything you want if you can come with a nickname that isn't Alex, Lex, Xander, or Al,"

Errol thought for a while. I stared at him as his mind turned in circles, really not going anywhere. He really did look a lot like me before the black hair dye, and before the whole vampire thing. I suppose his gray eyes were a little darker, and his hair was a little shorter, but he had the same straight nose and tall build. Freaky.

"Axel?" he finally asked.

"Like the lead singer of Guns N' Roses? No thanks," I said.

_I still don't get how he knows all of these old bands. I only know them because of Mr. Blott, but where the hell he could pick it up. Every one says he grew up in some orphanage. _

I didn't know people even knew that. How did they know that?

"I was thinking more like on a tire, but you're right," Errol went back to thinking.

"Andy? No that's like Andrew. How about Ander?" he asked. I felt a pull on my silent heart. Painfully happy memories. I felt my jaw clench, and tried to relax it.

_Man is he okay. He looks really pissed off now. Kind of sad, too. _

Look calm, look calm.

"Jeez, I didn't think it would make you angry. I'll think of something else," Errol said, a trace of smile tugging at his lips.

"No, no. I like that one," I said, making up my mind, "Call me that."

"Okey, dokey then. Now that that's settled…" he turned back down to his book, and the rest of lunch passed in comfortable silence.

* * *

I got home earlier then I did yesterday. I had gone to sit in the park for a while, but quickly become restless. I parked in the muddy drive. Esme and Carlisle were back now, but Emmett and Rosalie were still gone. I wouldn't even begin to get thirsty for another four or five weeks.

Once in the house I ventured into the kitchen where Esme was sitting at the table. There was a magazine in front of her.

_Hmmm, our cabinets are so darks now. Maybe something a little lighter…maybe even white. I could get Edward and Jasper to install them and they wouldn't make too much trouble as long as Emmett wasn't there._

"I think your cabinets are quite nice," I said, glad that I didn't have to worry about startling her like Mrs. Carlen.

"Oh, hello dear. Thank you, but the mahogany really hasn't been hitting me lately. It looked very dramatic and rich at first, but now…" she said.

I chuckled slightly and sat down across the table from her.

"Oh, I completely forgot! I wasn't here yesterday once you got back. How was school?" her mind was all abuzz with the havoc I could have wreaked.

"Don't worry, I have no intention of doing any massacring or pillaging until after spring break," I said, smiling.

"That will take some getting used to," Esme said, "You'd think that I would be used to it after over a hundred years with Edward, but another mind reader makes all the difference."

"To answer your question, school was fine. I think I only frightened a few children."

"Dear God, don't even joke. You should have heard some of the tales principals have told me. Emmett 'just playing with the humans'," Esme said, faking distress.

I escaped up to my room a little while later, and settled down to homework. Again I took my time doing the math, savoring even the slightest of mental strains. My other homework I accomplished with little effort, except for biology, which, unfortunately, has changed quite a bit since I learned it seventy-two years ago.

Right as I finished up, Alice came in to my room and flopped down on the bed.

"You got number seven wrong," she said, flipping through Huckleberry Finn.

"I don't believe you," I said, opening up my bio book and rereading the question, comparing it to my answer.

_She's right. You're way off. That's simple; any seventh grader could do that._

_Edward, get out of my head before I make you. The last time I learned biology we were still questioning whether there was anythin wrong with smoking, and every movie began with a warning from Pee Wee Herman telling you that, really, crack cocaine is bad._

After several minutes of struggling over the problem Alice came up from behind me.

"The answer is B," she said.

_I'm getting impatient. I want to ask my questions._

I'd forgotten about those.

"You write with your left hand? No wonder the papers all smudged," Alice said.

The left-handed gene was now even less common then it had been eighty-seven years ago when I was born. Now it was less then four percent, since scientists had proved that it really was related schizophrenia. For some reason parents thought that forcing their child to become right handed would take away the left handed gene thing, and would scar them less then a fifty two percent chance of being schizophrenic.

"That counts as a question," I said.

"No it doesn't. That was an observation. You didn't even answer me," Alice said, standing firm.

"Fine,"

"What's your favorite color?" Alice asked, but quickly amended, after looking again at me, "And don't say black. That's not allowed,"

"Black isn't my favorite color. Red is," I said.

"Why?" Alice asked.

"Why do you like pink so much?" I countered, not feeling up to explaining.

"No, no, no. This is random Alexander Fact time, not Alice,"

_I know there's a reason. I just can't see it. Come on, it's easier just to tell me then to endure me bugging you._

"Isn't that what they told people in the middle ages before putting them on the rack?" I asked.

"Stop being evasive. You and Edward have that in common,"

"It was the color of my mother's hair," I said, finally.

"Oh," Alice fell into a slightly guilty silence.

"It's okay, I've seen all or your thoughts and memories. Nothing wrong with sharing one or two of mine with you," I tried to assure her. She attempted a smile, but her eyes were still sad. "Once when I was really young, only two, she dyed her hair blonde. She told me once that I wouldn't stop crying until she washed it out," I smile genuinely at the happy memory.

Alice laughed appreciatively.

"Sometimes I wish I could remember my parents," she said the sadness back in her eyes.

"Sometimes I wish I couldn't,"

A/N Review or I will eat your soul. Even you Edwards Other Woman! And if I can not have that I will take your spleen foolish human!!


	10. Chapter 10

Three days later, not much had changed

Three days later, not much had changed. I considered Clara a fine acquaintance now, trying to ignore her clear admiration. Other than math, Clara ended up being extremely intelligent, and fairly well versed in music of the past twenty years. Not bad. Alice still haunted my room at night, watching me do homework, bombarding me with questions, or just sitting in silence while I listened to music. Rosalie and Emmett had returned from hunting. I could tell Rosalie was going to take a while to warm to me. Emmett was still indignant that I could beat him at video games, but it was all in good fun.

Except for the time he threw me through a wall. But that was two days ago and I…still haven't totally forgiven him. What can I say? I was wearing a very old, fragile t-shirt that could be worth thousands and now has a not so subtle whole in the chest.

Alice had left a few hours ago declaring that I was boring and went off to seek Jasper.

I watched as the velvety blanket of night morphed into the muted light of day. I changed slowly, pulling on black jeans and a slightly newer (in comparison to the rest of my wardrobe) t-shirt for Filled With Awe (**another made up futuristic band**).

I had learned that a small part of the reason I stood out was my height (as pointed out to me by Clara many times when her neck would start hurting when she talked to me). So I had taken to wearing shoes that added as little to my height as possible and slouching most of the time. Hey, it can't hurt me anymore. Have you ever seen a vampire with a humpback? The answer is no in case you haven't had enough experience with the undead.

I said my farewells to Edward in my mind, and waved to Bella as I walked by. Out in the garage Rosalie was working on one of the Cullen's many cars. I attempted a polite smile, but I have a feeling it didn't go so very well. Rosalie looked almost in pain as she eyed my, as she called "the gothic pile of spare parts". I couldn't really fault her. Even a car of respectable quality and upkeep would look like it came from a junkyard compared to their showcase of foriegn sports cars.

Today began a lot like the first two. Take notes in history. Endure English.

Math had definitely become the high point of my day. Clara and I had fallen into a steady routine. Take notes from what Mrs. Ramone explains. Re-teach to Clara what Mrs. Ramone just explained. Take the surprise quiz that happens every day. Watch Clara be baffled at how she could have possibly gotten so many wrong. Then spend the rest of class listening to the music the teacher put on when she gave us time for homework.

Definitely the best hour and a half I have ever spent.

"Did you get taller?" Clara asked on the way to German.

"No. I'm trying to be shorter," I said, put out.

"Well I finally found something you're truly awful at," Clara said craning her neck to look up at me, "Although you do make a lovely rain shield," she beamed.

I shoved her not so gently as several large raindrops punctuated her statement by hitting me in the face.

"Abuse!" Clara said jokingly, returning to cling to my side.

"If you weren't three feet tall, that wouldn't have even budged you," I lied.

"I am just vertically challenged," she sniffed.

After several practice conversations in German ("I enjoy sausage," "I too am a fan of the tubular meats," "Alexander! That is shelf," "Ummm…Clara you just told me that my fandom of tubular meats was shelf," "I'm more of an Italian girl,"), the bell rang and we were released.

"What did you say earlier during the sausage conversation?" Clara asked, once again seeking shelter behind my taller frame.

"Well you started by saying you enjoy sausage. I replied that I too was a fan of tubular meat. And then you said "Alexander! That is shelf," and then we started speaking English again," I told her, my head tilted down.

"We do have enthralling conversations."

* * *

I sat down across from Errol. He kept his head down, and only grunted when I greeted him.

_Maybe he won't notice. Nobody ever notices. Flaw in plan: Nobody ever looks long enough to notice. Shit._

I always tried not to read his mind. Well tried being the operative word. I rarely succeeded.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked, attempting a light tone, but not achieving it.

"Nothing," Errol said, shifting his head slightly so his hair covered part of his face. That can't be good. I pretended to drop the subject and started listening to music. A few minutes later I surreptitiously pulled out the ear buds. I started at him for a moment and then said in false panic,

"Oh God!" Errol's head jerked up, alarmed, looking every which way. I could see a bruise on his cheek roughly the size of an apple. Or a fist.

"What happened to you?" I said back to my calm demeanor. He glared at me for a long moment before realizing he wasn't particularly menacing. Maybe I had always just gotten more practice, but I felt like gray eyes were the best eyes to glare with. Like ice. Black and red were pretty effective too, but unless you wanted to give up your soul or get contacts, red and black weren't readily available to most humans.

"I got attacked by boxes at the record store yesterday," Errol said, attempting a light tone and a slight laugh. Attempt failed.

_It could've happened. He saw the chaos back there last time he came in the store._

I gazed at him, wishing he would think of what really happened, but he appeared to be avoiding even thinking of it. That doesn't bear well. He met my gaze and held it. Our staring contest lasted until I broke the silence. I was never a patient person.

"You're lying, but I don't feel like putting the effort in to find out why," I said smoothly, before placing my ear buds back in. I began tearing the bagel in front of me into uniform pieces. I looked up to find him staring at me expectantly. He hadn't said anything or I would have heard.

"Yes?" I asked pulling the ear buds out.

"Why don't you ever eat?" Errol asked looking genuinely curious.

"Never had much of an appetite," I responded, using to telling the excuse.

"You're lying. But unfortunately for you I have enough energy to bug you to tell me why you're lying," he said, a grin I didn't trust lighting up his face.

"I have a stomach disease," I said, another lie, "Never been able to handle more than a little food a day."

"Oh," Errol said, face falling.

"What hoping for something more climactic? Let me think…" I paused slightly, "How about I am a zombie who doesn't eat food because it can never quench my need for human flesh?"

"You're not funny."

"On the contrary, I find myself intensely amusing."

* * *

I actually had to do PE now. Gross. We jogged in rectangles around the gym for twenty minutes. I spent most of that time listening to the thoughts around me. There were still a few people who hadn't quite gotten over the shock of a new face. One out of every five thoughts was a snide remark about something involving my style, my quietness, my 'creepiness', and my interaction with Errol or Clara. I could quite tell what the school's aversion was to the former, but I intended to find out…eventually.

Afterwards the coaches split us up into teams for dodge ball. I had always been good at dodging things.

Well at least when it wasn't Emmett, who was roughly the size of a bear, throwing me through a wall. Eighty-seven years and I'd been hit a lot, thrown into a lot of walls, hell even thrown a few people into walls myself, but I'd never actually been thrown through one.

The game started off, and I mostly dodged, but gripping the red cherry ball in my hand.

_Never suspect your own teammate would you, gothy._

Now that is original. I have never heard that before.

Anticipating the ball thrown from a few feet behind, I whirled around to catch the ball and hurl it back. Before he knew what had happened the boy was flat on the floor with a throbbing pain where you never wanted it.

I count that as a victory for the day.

* * *

I was on my way through the parking lot later when I noticed Clara beside me, yet again using me for shelter. She was becoming like a shadow now, and although I had always imagined I would quickly become annoyed to have a constant companion, I found it almost pleasant. Clara hadn't quite realized yet that I knew she was there and was currently congratulating herself on being so sneaky.

I smiled deciding there weren't enough people around for too much caution. At top speed I back peddled and then to the right so I was directly behind her. Clara jumped surprised to be bombarded by a wave of rain. Her head snapped around looking for me. Still unaware of me, she nearly had a hard attack when I leaned over her shoulder and breathed, "Boo."

"How the hell do you do that?" she cried, furious. Latching on to my arm she pulled me pack to her side to keep her dry.

"Years of skulking," I said, grinning maliciously.

"Just for that, you need to give me a ride," Clara said.

_Hmmm…that little affair gave me a way to ask for what I want without just assaulting him._

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled leading the way to my car. I clicked the button to unlock it and slid in the front tossing my bag haphazardly over my shoulder. Clara fell into the seat next to me, and started complaining about me getting her all wet. Getting tired of her whining I pulled my hood down and started shaking my dark, wet hair at her.

"Woops," I said, turning the key. Bullet For My Valentine started screaming through the speakers. Clara groaned and turned the music down to barely a whisper.

"The moral of this story is that you should always ask, not demand," I said, smiling at her.

_Friend. Friend. Friend. He's not your type anyway. Besides there is already a line to get to him. But I'm one of his friends, so maybe I have an advantage. Or a really huge disadvantage._

I felt a guilty pang, like I was leading her on. But most of the thoughts I had heard about myself had been venomous. Maybe I just wasn't listening to the right people.

Mostly we talked a about classes and things, with the occasional direction of "turn left" or "keep going straight until you see the bear carving". I subtly began turning the music back up. Or not so subtly.

"Ugh! I am going to make your car so wet…" Clara threatened sliding around in the seat, and rubbing her dripping hair against the headrest.

I laughed, unable to contain it. It was quite humorous to see a sixteen-year-old rubbing all over a car seat, looking like a half drowned cat. She finally gave up, laughing along with me.

After Clara regained her breath she finished directing me to her home. Her house was one that could only be called precious. It was painted a soft purple with a pristine white-shingled roof. A wrap around deck made it look a little bigger than its small size. Lawn gnomes were strategically placed to look like they were peaking at you out of bushes, behind a knee-high brick wall that lined the gravel walkway, or were hiding among the pansies on top of said wall.

"I know the gnomes are really dorky. But my dad collects them, and my brother likes to move them everyday," Clara said.

"No, they're cute," I said. Clara raised an eyebrow at me, "I mean your house looks like it fell out of a fairy tale book or something."

"Oh, well, we try," she said. The door to her house opened and a boy ran out, getting soaked in the rain, his bare feet splashing through puddles. He paused at the car door looking in to see who was in and then pulled it open.

"Hey Clara," he said, "Mom sent me out to see who the car was. Who's this?" he eyed me suspiciously before grasping Clara's hand. She laughed patting his arm. This must be her little brother. He looked a lot like her, only his eyes were greener than hazel, and his hair was a little blonder. He had less freckles than her, mostly spattered over the bridge of his nose.

"His name is Alexander, too. He's my friend from school," Clara explained. Alexander eyed me still, clearly not convinced of my innocence.

"You dress funny," he said finally. I chuckled, and nodded slightly.

"How old are you?" I asked, still smiling.

"I'm eight, but I am going to be nine real soon," Alexander said proudly puffing out his chest.

"Interesting definition of soon. Isn't your birthday still eight months away?" Clara asked ruffling his hair.

"Seven months, two weeks, and three days," he responded stiffly, "That's still less then a year."

"I think Clara is trying to rain on your parade," I said. Alexander nodded vigorously in agreement.

"We should go inside. Now your all wet, too," Clara observed dryly, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. She got out of the car and waved thanking me before walking up the walk with Alexander, turning back to wave and steel glances at my retreating car.

On my way home, I pondered over the car ride, seeing her home, and then meeting her brother. It gave me a strangely good feeling to see Clara's cute house, in it's nice neighborhood, with the "dorky" gnomes her dad collected. I felt a pang of unwanted jealousy too, but quickly pushed it aside.

Her brother was interesting too. He was a cute kid, but clearly did not enjoy being thought of that way. It was funny when he first asked who I was, looking all suspicious. I could see in the eight-year-olds mind he had every intention of protecting his older sister from the mysterious stranger who dressed funny. I decided that it was almost worth getting my car all wet, just to meet the other Alexander.

Almost, but not quite.

A/N Hope you enjoyed it. I am going to try to post another one or two chapters in the next few days, but Monday there won't be any updates until at least August 17. I am going back east for a family reunion. Great for me, bad for you. I will write while I am gone, but won't be able to update. Sorry! Like I said I will attempt another two updates, but no promises. Comic-con!!

Love the story? Hate the story? Love me because I am awesome? Hate me because I won't be updating after Monday for two weeks? Review to show me that love/hate.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Well, this will be the last chapter for a while. It's kind of a fluffy chapter. Well as fluffy as Alexander can get, and he's not a fluffy guy...on the outside at least. Enjoy.

I went into the record store for a while. I had developed an obsession with one of the guitars they had hanging in the store. Really gorgeous electric guitar that looks just like the one Frank Iero played fifty years ago. I come in nearly every day to play it. That other kid who works at the store, Jared, always gets really pissed off.

It's somewhat amusing. Today while I was playing I noticed that the person standing behind me wasn't sighing, and telling me that I would have to buy it eventually. I stopped abruptly and turned around. There was an old man there, presumable Mr. Blott.

"You are in here every single day, playing that damned thing. It's been on my shelf for the past seventeen years. If you are going to buy it, please do. If not please stop making all this racket every day," he said sternly. Mr. Blott looked to be in his mid seventies, and certainly didn't look like he owned this store.

He was wearing a thick, brown sweater and green corduroy pants. His hair was gray streaked with white, and surrounded the shiny pate in bushy tufts.

_Damn hooligan. When I played guitar I owned the instrument. _

"Sorry, sir," I said, putting on a guilty expression, "I'll be back with the money tomorrow."

Mr. Blott looked surprised that I hadn't said something snarky, or just run out of the store with the guitar.

"Oh, well. Very good then," he said, smiling a little.

"How much is it?" I asked, praying it wasn't going to be a vintage that would cost me my very long life savings.

"Well, I originally marked it at two thousand when it first went up, but due to inflation and age I should probably sell it to you for at least twice that," Mr. Blott said. I sighed inwardly. A little steep, but I would just have to skimp on records and things. He looked at me for a moment taking in my appearance. I still had the guitar sitting in my lap and one of my hands was still lightly pressing a chord on the neck.

He is that new kid Mel was talking about. She didn't quite get him right. Here I was picturing he was going to be a tattooed monster, or high on something unholy. He looks like a good enough kid to me. What did she say his name was? Johnny? No that's her grandson. Allen? Bill?

"Well I'll be back tomorrow then…with four thousand dollars," I said, cringing slightly. He reached out a withered hand and grabbed my arm.

"Due to several reasons, the first being I want it out of my store, the second being I have no clue who you are going to rob to get that money," he said, shushing me when I started to protest, "and the third being it would be a crime to stop someone with your kind of talent, I'll give it to you for the original mark price."

"Er, wow. Thanks. I…uh…will be back tomorrow then," I turned to leave, but paused, pivoting back to say something, "And you won't be hearing of me robbing anyone to get that money."

* * *

By the time I got home it was later than usual, nearly nine. But as always the lights were on at the house and I could hear every thought accounted for. I slipped in the back door and up to my room. As usual someone (Alice), was waiting in my room for me.

But when I shut the door, I saw a very different person sitting on my bed, looking at their surroundings critically.

"I don't know if you have realized or not, but the eighties, thankfully, are over," Rosalie said, shivering slightly.

"I will always maintain that the eighties were the best decade. And I don't go into your room criticizing whatever may be there," I responded calmly, dropping my bag next to my desk. I turned, arms crossed waiting for whatever she had come here for. In her mind she was singing the lyrics to that heinous Cindy Lauper song that had become so popular when I was alive.

"That is just cruel. May I ask what exactly you came here for, other than to remind me of the one truly embarrassing song of the eighties?"

_One? Please Alexander, did you spend all of the eighties on crack? _

"That is about the eighth joke someone has made about me doing cocaine in the last week, so just know you're not the first."

Rosalie sighed, and I could tell we were getting to what she wanted to know.

"You said that when you were changed you were going somewhere. To get your father killed, right?"

"Yes," I said, ready to lie/evade at all costs.

"But you didn't actually get there, to get him killed right?"

"No," not then at least.

"Do you know what happened to him after you left?" I had never actually seen Rosalie nervous around me, or really anything other than mildly disgusted before. It was slightly disconcerting.

I nodded.

"Do you know how he died?"

I thought it over for a minute. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell her.

"I did kill him eventually. Not quite as, er, theatric as your revenge, I must say."

She was stunned for a moment.

"You killed your father," she said, more of a question than a statement.

"You killed your fiancé, but you don't see me judging." She looked a little surprised that I knew this, and even a little hurt. I looked, down guiltily before explaining.

"I wasn't planning to when I first went back to see him, but circumstances were different than I had thought," I said, dancing around the issue.

"What were the circumstances?"

"He was married again. She was younger than him, and he hadn't changed in the past six years. He was still drinking, and still violent. It wasn't just revenge for me and my mother that drove me; it was the hope that I could save this young girl, too.

"I haunted him for a while. Occasionally I would just sit in the chair next to the couch, while he watched TV. For a while he would just start yelling and asking me who I was. I could see in his mind he actually didn't remember me. Eventually he expected it, he started to remember me. The face of a pale, skinny boy he had know for fifteen years, who had mysteriously disappeared one night. One of his many problems that had taken care of its self."

Rosalie was watching me, inspecting my face for any sign of emotion. She didn't find anything.

"How did he not recognize you?"

"By that time he was getting older. Plus drugs and alcohol never help your memory," I said matter of factly.

"What happened to his wife after he died?"

"Jane Pall wife found herself the sole name in a will, giving everything in possession of Alexander Kline Sr. to her. I checked in on her every now and then. She got married fifty years ago, had two children, and six grandchildren. She died fourteen years ago on a ranch in Montana."

Rosalie smiled.

"At least someone got a happy ending," she said, as she stood up to leave, "And thank you for telling me this."

* * *

It started snowing around the time Alice joined me, today dragging Jasper along with her.

"Hello," I said not looking up from the paper I was writing for science. I finished with a triumphant smile and lifted the paper to read what I had written.

"Shit!" I said slamming my head on the desk

_Language, Alexander._ Esme scolded me from downstairs.

"What is wrong with you?" Jasper asked, becoming irritated as my own frustration influenced him. I held the paper up and he and Alice burst into laughter. I could also hear Edward guffawing upstairs, seeing it in their minds.

The lined paper was already messy with my scrawling cursive. Unfortunately I had been too absorbed in writing the paper to notice that my hand had left the ink smeared across every line. Even my perfect sight could barely read it.

"Ugh."

By the time I finished copying down my essay again, very carefully, it was nearly two in the morning. Alice took the opportunity to repeatedly fix my grammar, spelling, and all of the factual errors I had made. Jasper was perusing through my CDs, occasionally asking a question. But eventually they both wandered out.

I was just settling down on the bed for a good long music break when Edward walked in.

"Well I was looking at your CD collection in Jasper's mind, but then he left, so I am here to finish the job myself," he declared.

"Those aren't all of them. There is another thousand under the bed, and then a few odds and ends in the closet," I said. "But I swear to god, if you touch any of them I will eat your soul."

"Duly noted."

Twenty minutes later he began criticizing my lack of jazz, and five minutes after that we were arguing about it. Soon that delved into my lack of classical music. Basically he was just yelling at me for not having every CD he did.

I was still frustrated from my essay earlier, and soon we were in an all out screaming match. Alice and Rosalie were watching at the door, amused. Nobody had stepped in because Edward and Emmett got into things similar to this all the time.

"Just because there are instruments involved, doesn't mean it's music," Edward shouted, while holding up a Slipknot CD.

"Boy, if you don't put that down, I will make you hurt so bad!"

"Hey! I'm seventy-years older than you!"

"Good stating the obvious, dad," Edward stopped.

"Did you just call me dad?"

"Sarcastically, yes," he's what 150 years old? You'd think he'd understand sarcasm.

Edward put the CD down on the bed and walked out. I could hear his mind buzzing incoherently.

"I'm sorry, did I win?" I yelled. Rosalie and Alice chuckled as they dispersed back to their respective rooms.

A/N I'm not super happy with this chapter, but I think it is satisfying enough. Review to show your level of satisfaction.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N A new chapter! My vacation was good by the way.

The next day at school started normally enough. History, English, etc. I listened carefully for whatever Clara had been thinking about a line to get to me. It astounded me to learn that there was a girl in my English class, one of the brighter bulbs, who appeared to idolize me. It was harder to look at her since almost the entire class her eyes were on me.

But of the glances I stole I was able to get a clear enough picture. A few inches taller than Clara, brown eyes, brown hair, and a style similar to mine. I was pleasantly surprised that a lot of her thoughts around me, revolved around finding out where I had gotten the My Chemical Romance bag slung over my shoulder. It was refreshing to find youths who could appreciate good music of the past.

But still I wasn't interested.

Things got even weirder in math though. Clara's normal incessant quizzing about the homework from the night before didn't appear. Instead a few minutes into the class she started asking questions about me.

"Hey Alexander. Where were you born?" Unsettling. Her thoughts were worse though.

_Damn my parents! Now I can't stop wondering about what happened before he came here._

"Seattle," I answered, "Why?"

"I just realized I know absolutely nothing about you, that's all," she said, clearly lying. For a human she wasn't an awful liar, but she might as well have just painted a sign on her forehead.

"When's your birthday?"

"New Years."

"You're lying," Okay technically I was, but only because my real birthday was on the thirty- first. My vampire birthday is on midnight the day after. I'm splitting hairs here, people.

"Nope. Anything else?" I asked, knowing full well that Mrs. Ramone was about to start class.

"Tons. Whe-"

"Okay today we're talking about the new and exciting world of higher degree functions!"

By the time we got out of math it was snowing outside, and Clara was to busy trying to use me as a shield against the ice falling on her to question me.

The German practice conversations with Clara always amused me. She was truly awful at German, so her trying to quiz me on my life in the language at hand didn't go so well.

"Wann haben Sie gehen auf die Pflegestelle?" (When did you go to the foster home?)

"Im Alter von zwölf," (At age twelve.)

"Fisch ist kein Alter!" (Fish isn't an age!)

"Vielleicht sollten Sie Stick mit Englisch, Clara." (Maybe you should stick with English, Clara.)

"Do you speak to your mother with that mouth?" Clara said outraged, convince he had said something vile and dirty.

"Actually, no," I said back, smirking slightly. Clara's face reddened as she remembered the part of our conversation she could understand.

_I should just start leaving my foot in my mouth. At least once it's in their, I can't say anything else horrible._

"It's fine, don't worry about it," I said, turning to look up at the teacher while Clara searched frantically in her book to figure out what our conversation had been.

_I hope he never finds out I was planning to switch from this class before he came. I am such a floozy._

I had begun feeling uneasy whenever I heard Clara think things like this. I felt like I was leading her on, but I also knew the other friends she had were fare weather on a good day. I also couldn't deny feeling an attachment to her, too, but not in any way the kind she wanted.

What a pickle. And I really hated pickles when I could eat.

* * *

At lunch Clara didn't say the awkward farewell to go sit at her own table this time, she stood with me in line while I bought pop and a chocolate cookie. I smiled slightly, think of Alice's dearest wish to remember what chocolate tasted like.

"What are you smiling at?" Clara asked as they walked toward the table where Errol was seated.

"Oh nothing. You wouldn't get it," I said.

"Inside joke?" she guessed.

"You could call it that," I responded.

"You are so evasive," Clara said as I sat down in my usual place across from the only other occupant of the table (normally at least). Clara plopped down next to me, and Errol looked up surprised, raising an eyebrow. The bruise on his cheek looked worse than yesterday.

I could remember that well. For some reason the day after my dad got to me, the bruises never showed very well, so I almost thought I was imagining the sharp aches and pains. Only to be morbidly relieved to learn I wasn't crazy the next when they blossomed purple and green across my limbs.

Happy memories.

"I'm not going to lie, I didn't expect you would be the one to bring new people to this table, Alexander," I noticed he didn't use the nickname he had been so adamant on "creating" yesterday.

_I guess I never had much trouble with Clara. She didn't make fun of me…after, but I still doubt it would be a good idea to use any nicknames around her. It's always the nice ones…_

I was utterly baffled and confused by his thoughts. After what?

"Yeah well, she sticks to me like something that sticks and never loses it's stick, so it was inevitable," I said, unable to come up with a better analogy. Clara giggled.

"It's true. Also I was promised answers to my questions."

"I never made any promises."

"Yeah you did. Earlier you asked if there was anything else, and there is!" Clara said, stubborn.

"I only stick with the pinky promises," I said, pretending to examine the ingredients in the Grandmother's cookie I had bought.

"You are such a-"

"Jesus Clara. I'm only joking. Ask away," I said relishing the surprised look on her face.

"Why were you in the foster home?"

"My parents had to send me down in a ship from Krypton. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to parent your child from who knows how many light-years away. And speedy space travel is a bitch now a days," Errol snorted with laughter, but quickly stopped after a glare from Clara.

_Why am I laughing? I want to know this stuff, too. Straight face time._

"Could you be serious for once?" Clara asked, her face flushing angrily.

"Yeah, yeah, pinky promise," I said, hooking my little finger with hers. Her heart rate accelerated, and she looked a little sad when I pulled my hand back. She asked a question to distract me, and herself, from what had just happened.

"Why are you so cold?"

"I don't know, maybe it's from blocking you from all forces of weather," I dodged the question quickly, "What did you want to know before?"

"Why you were in the foster home?"

"Mom's dead, Dad's in prison," I said shortly. They both seemed shocked at this. There was a long silence before Errol finally broke it.

"What happens when he gets out?" he asked.

"He's not," I said.

_Damn it! Why didn't I start with favorite color?_

"Do I get to hear anything about you?" I asked Errol, "I know all about Clara's little brother, and her dad's gnomes, but zero about you." Clara flushed slightly.

"My mom's dead, too. It's just me and my dad," there was a slight bitterness on the last word. Just as I suspected.

"Okay, okay. I already know all about Errol. I've gone to school with him since pre-school," Clara said redirecting the conversation back to me, "Nobody can figure out who adopted you. Everyone thinks it's the weird people who live out in the woods, but a lot of people don't even think they exist."

"First of all everyone here lives in the woods. Second of all they do exist and they're the Cullens."

"The Cullens? My parents have talked about them. My dad says his dad knew their grandfather or something, but I think he just wanted to one-up my mom on seeing one of their cars."

"So you're Alexander Cullen?" Errol asked.

"Nope. Still have my other name. Alexander Kline."

"Hey, Errol what's your full name?" Clara asked.

_My mom keeps calling him Jason. I didn't want to correct her because I wasn't sure if it was his middle name. Man I can't even swing correcting her now, since my parents would be eternally pissed if they found out I was talking to, as they say, " the town freak"._

Town freak? What the hell did that mean? I was getting really sick of all these people thinking obscure thought about whatever the hell happened to Errol, or what he did.

"Errol Anthony Tourn (**pronounced like torn**)," I felt an irrational thrill at the name Anthony. Not because it was the name I had used for the past three years. Because of the person it came from. My mind seemed to cloud over, memories flashing by like a familiar well-loved movie, spreading warmth through me.

"Whoa, Alexander, back from dream land!" Clara was waving a hand in front of my face.

"What?" I said, irritated that she had interrupted. She shrunk back a little. Oops. I softened my voice to an apologetic tone "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What did you say?"

"I asked what your full name is," she said, still looking a little scared.

"Alexander Vladimir Kline," I said, satisfied with the looks of shock.

"Man that totally beats mine. Clara Mackenzie Marr has no association with vampires or anything cool. What were you parents smoking when they named you that?"

"My mom was just really into vampires," I said, insulted on my mother's behalf.

"My mom was really into names that should be pronounces one way, but aren't when you say them," she said matter-of-factly. (**A/N Oh did I forget to mention? Clara's name is pronounces like Claw-ra. Or ar! Like the sound a pirate makes)**

"My mom had heard of an actor from like the twentieth century or some equally outrageous amount of time ago, and named me that." (**pssst…it's Errol Flynn)**

I held up the still unopened cookie, "Anybody want this?" Clara shook her head motioning toward her half finished lunch. Errol nodded and caught it when I tossed it to him.

"Why aren't you eating or drinking? Are you sick?" Clara asked, concerned.

"Nah, he never eats. I think he's too concerned with his keeping his figure," Errol snickered, popping a chunk of the cookie into his mouth. I noticed him cringe slightly when the bruise on his cheek stretched.

"I have a stomach disease," I explained to Clara, who looked like she totally believed I was anorexic.

"Why do your eyes change color?" Errol asked suddenly.

"Yeah," Clara said, "In your yearbook picture they're like red, but now they're always either black or yellow."

Errol and I turned to her, "How have you seen my yearbook picture?" I asked.

"I'm on yearbook. You were right next to a guy I had to edit out since he moved," she said hurriedly.

That and I just wanted to see his face. Creepy.

I remembered I had said on last farewell to human blood before I had my school picture taken. I had hunted quickly on animals after to hide it from the Cullens.

"I have a mixture of really rare eye diseases. Aniridia where, in my case only occasionally, the iris looks undeveloped such that the whole eye looks like the pupil, or like a yellowing shade of the whites of my eyes (**the yellow part is made up, but Aniridia is a real disease. Wikipedia it)** . Also I'm albino so sometimes my eyes are red."

_I didn't even know you could have one eye disease let alone multiple at once. _Clara

_That's total bullshit. He's hiding something. _Errol

Sometimes bullshit is better than the hidden truth Errol.

A/N Review


	13. Chapter 13

A/N It's been a while. I'm sorry. Enjoy. Review.

"Hey, Alex," Clara sang in a crooning voice.

"Don't call me Alex."

"Can I have a ride today?" She asked, unperturbed.

"Are you going to make my car all wet again, because if you are, then no," I responded, wondering what Errol would make of this.

"I can only attempt it," Clara said, popping an apple slice into her mouth.

"Fine," I said, turning to Errol, "You want a ride, too well I'm at it?"

"Errr…"

_Today's Thursday so he won't be home until 6…and I need to figure out how the hell I'm going to get to work tomorrow without him finding out I have a job. I bet no other kid has to worry about their dad being pissed they have a paying job._

"Yeah, that would be good. Thanks," The bell rang then and we went our separate ways; Clara looking please, Errol looking a little more relaxed, and me, a little more confused than I recall ever being

That afternoon Errol found Clara and I on our way to my car. Errol was prepared to give Clara the front seat, but I quickly shot that down in favor of keeping my upholstery clean. Soon, Clara was directing me, needlessly, to her house through the rain-splattered windshield. I pulled up to her house and stopped, anticipating her brother's head to pop through the door. It didn't, but I could see his face pressed against the glass of a side window.

"Guess, I'll see you guys tomorrow. Bye," she said, getting out of the car and slamming the door. She walked hurriedly to the front door.

_Please tell me mom isn't watching again. I really don't want to explain this._

Come on. Somebody cut me some slack.

"Where to?" I asked turning my head to look at him. In the dim light of the gray sky, you could hardly see the bruise. I realized the sight of his face without the bruise (even if it was just a trick of the light) made me feel slightly better.

"Head toward the quick mart," Errol replied, a small smirk forming on his face, "You know, the one that's by all the trees."

"Wow, that's a knee-slapper," I said turning to him, smiling.

No wonder Clara's falling all over him…aw shit. You've got to be kidding me.

There was a short silence where I was mildly confused.

"So…Clara's nice," Errol said, failing to make the silence any less awkward.

"Yeah. She's really awful at German. It's actually pretty amusing."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that. Everyone thought that Mary was just bored and made up the rumor that you could speak German. I guess she actually got something right for once. It's unlike her."

"Oh. I wouldn't think people would care."

"People care about everything here. Every tiny minute detail could, and probably will be talked about for weeks. I know from experience," I heard him berating himself for saying this.

"And what would that be?" Errol's mind stumbled for a while before he answered.

"Just living here for sixteen years (**Errol's a sophomore, not a freshman. He's one year "older" than Alexander)**"

"I don't believe you." I said, turning my head slightly toward him, as I pulled up to a red light.

"You need to stop being so distrustful."

"You need to stop lying."

"Touché."

"So you admit it. You're a hopeless liar who needs to start telling the truth. I'm glad you see it my way," I said, keeping my face the picture solemnity.

"You know, Ander, sometimes it's best to leave people with their secrets. Don't you have any secrets?"

"One or two small ones, and one rather large one. And you?" I said quicky turning the conversation back to him.

"Two very big ones," he said, turning to stare out the window, "Aw, crap. You passed my house six blocks ago."

"I didn't even know this town had six blocks in it," I said making a sharp u-turn where I wasn't suppose to. I realized too late that I hadn't looked before I made the move. Normally there would have been no need to even pretend to, but this was not the case now.

"Jesus Christ! Ander, you could have killed us. Who taught you how to drive? A rampant bull?"

"No I taught myself, but that's beside the point. It was totally and completely safe. Pinky swear," I said, grinning.

"Well that explains it. Do you even have a license?" he paused briefly. "Wait. You're fifteen. You shouldn't be driving."

"I have a permit. None of the cops in this town pay attention. Trust me I've been driving for a while. I am probably the safest driver you'll ever know," I needed to stop giving him such obvious hints.

"How long have you been driving?"

"Years. I lived on the outskirts of Seattle so I had to drive to be able to get anywhere. I was the oldest in my home, and the only one close enough to being in any way capable of it."

"I'm not going to lie, that scares me quite a bit," he said, a hint of a smirk coming onto his face.

"Okay tell me when to turn," I said, glad to be returning to not-so-slippery conversation.

"Two streets ago. There's a cul-de-sac soon. Please…use it."

"Yes, sir." I turned at the proper place this time, and soon was driving down a street of houses a little smaller than Clara's. At Errol's instruction I stopped at a house near the end of the road, where the street just kind of dropped off into woods. I turned the car off and sat.

Errol showed no sign of exiting the vehicle.

_I can't ask that. That would be totally inappropriate. But what if they are? I can't believe I am letting myself do this again. I hate this. What is wrong with me?_

"Are you and Clara dating?" Errol asked, nervous. I could smell fear in his blood, and sweat on his palms.

"No," I said quickly. "Do people think we are?"

"No. Mostly they just know Clara is in love with you."

"Yeah. I feel bad about that."

"You should. She's a nice girl," Errol said.

"I know that. This sounds utterly cliché, but I like having her as a friend. And quite frankly she can't get through math without me, so it's win-win here."

I heard him sigh.

"Errol…" I began, not knowing if this was going to make him angry, "Why doesn't anybody talk to you?"

"You talk to me." I lost my courage. Maybe I would ask Clara.

Or maybe I wouldn't.

* * *

That night I was lying on my bed listening to music when Alice barged in.

"Alexander! Just the man I'm looking for. I think you and I should go for a quality hunt."

Come on. Don't ask questions.

"O…kay," I said, allowing her to pull me up and out the window, both of us landing agilely on the ground below. She began running at top speed, still grasping my hand so I was forced to follow her.

That was one thing that bothered me. Despite my 'extraordinary' powers, I was barely stronger than Alice. Hence the whole Emmett throwing me into walls thing.

Soon we were at what Alice judged to be a suitable distance from the house.

"What do you need Alice?" I groaned, tugging my hand out of hers.

"I need you to tell me what's wrong with Jasper," she said. Alice plopped on the ground after cleaning if off a bit with one delicate foot.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean something is bugging him. He won't tell me, and Edward has been acting all weird since you decided it would be funny to call him 'dad', so I figured I'd come to you…Big Al," she chuckled at how funny the name was when used to describe me.

"Ugh, I am never saying anything sarcastic around him again. How can he still be harping over that?"

"Oh, it's just Edward. He lived one hundred and seven years free of commitment. Then he found Bella, which wasn't much of a change since deciding to commit to her was easy as deciding to breathe…well that doesn't work so well, but you get what I mean."

"Actually I don't. What, does he want me to be his next wife or something? I mean he's okay looking, but not quite my type."

"I mean there never really was a decision with Bella. Someday I'll make one of them tell you the story-"

"I know the gist of it."

"Don't interrupt. As I was saying, there was never any chance that Edward wasn't going to commit to Bella. But with you? One day Bella comes home talking about this poor kid who had horrible parents and is forced to live with humans. Eventually we're able to pump out of her that this vampire's usual diet consists of the people we have committed to sub stain from. Okay, he also lives with humans so how big of a deal can it be? But still Edward is weary. Despite this, he can't resist giving Bella anything she wants, and she desperately wants to take care of you. I mean it obviously worked out for the better, and we all love you. It's just that Edward now has to face the fact that he is legally your father, and thereby committed to you. I think he is just a little…not angry…confused that the child Bella always secretly wanted turned out to be you," I blinked. That was a lot. I don't see how I could have missed all this. Alice took another deep breath and I braced myself mentally.

"Plus he is majorly pissed that you can read Bella's mind and he can't."

"Oh." I was unsettled. "So what was your Jasper problem?"

"Okay. Jasper's been acting weird lately. He left this morning to hunt with Emmett all in tizzy and I know there is something he won't tell me. The worst though is I keep seeing visions of him asking me to leave with him. Leave the coven. It goes back and forth, but I'm worried," Alice finished. She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. I sat down next to her and she leaned into me.

"I've noticed it vaguely, but I didn't pay too much attention. I thought he'd gotten over it, but maybe he's just been careful not think about it around me anymore. I think he was angry that I've been so in control."

"Jasper would never-" Alice stopped and dipped her head.

"From what I can tell he just always had such a hard time at that school. Maybe he just thought that I would be able to relate to him since I fed on humans for so long, and now he feels like he's the only one who has that problem," I said. It was true. I had heard him reasoning with himself sometimes.

"Okay. Thank you for telling me Alexander." Alice stood up began to walk from the clearing.

"Alice, wait," I was on my feet and by her side in milliseconds. "Maybe I should leave."

"Well I should hope you were planning on leaving this clearing. I'm certainly not staying."

"No, I mean, maybe I should leave. Like go somewhere else. It's clear that Edward isn't particularly enthusiastic about me being here. And Jasper isn't doing so good either. I just…I haven't been good to your family. Bella was nice to adopt me, and get me out of that home, but I don't think I am doing anyone a favor by staying here."

"Well that would just make things worse." Alice said, sitting back down, and pulling me with her.

"Why?"

"Because Jasper would feel guilty, Bella would be miserable, and Edward by extension. Esme wouldn't be happy either. She likes you. And Rosalie is starting to warm to you. Can you think of any other option other than that extreme?"

"I don't know, but Alice, you and Jasper have been here a century longer than me. If Jasper is really serious about leaving, I should go."

"What if you just made Jasper think that you were having more trouble than you were?"

"How can I do that?"

"Make the decision at school. The next time you drive Errol home," she paused realizing she wasn't supposed to know this. Alice continued though when I said nothing, "decide that you're going to take him. Imagine, picture it, and if all goes as planned I'll have a vision of you attacking. I'll stir a little panic, but will reassure everyone that you didn't do it. Errol is safe at home."

"You actually think that would work? What about Edward? And Jasper will be able to tell you're lying," I said, skeptical, but hopeful.

"Trust me. It will work."

"All right then." I stood and offered a hand to Alice, which she took daintily and skipped to her feet.

She hugged me. It was a little odd at first because it felt familiar. But it wasn't as odd once I realized it was familiar because Alice was barely any bigger than Bailey. She released me and said,

"Alexander, you don't know how happy I am that you'll do this for me. Because even though I love my family and I don't want to leave them, if it came down to it, I would go anywhere with Jasper. One day you'll love someone and you'll understand that."

We started running and I was so lost in my thoughts, I barely realized I had made the decision to say something.

About a mile from the house I opened my mouth and replied,

"Who said I've never loved someone before?"

A/N Ooooh!

Just for everyone's future reference:

Clara and Alexander are not getting together

Clara and Alexander are not getting together

Clara and Alexander are not getting together

Now that that's cleared up I would like to put out the word that I will dance for reviews. So please...review.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N Hey this chapter has a title

A/N Hey this chapter has a title! It's a line from Kill All Your Friends by My Chemical Romance (I don't own it). First things first. I have a beta! My amazing, cool, super neat friend Margaret edited all seventy pages of this crappy story! I reposted them like a week ago, so enjoy proper comma placement. By the way you might know Margaret from reviews where she uses my name (Maggie) as a pseudonym.

PS Margaret just because you Beta doesn't mean you're off the hook for reviewing.

Second things second. I was, er, surprised to say the least at the guesses of who Alexander's former love was. Bailey? Really? You creepersons. She's six. shakes head in disapproval But hey I love you anyway for reviewing.

_Previously: _

_"Alexander, you don't know how happy I am that you'll do this for me. Because even though I love my family and I don't want to leave them, if it came down to it, I would go anywhere with Jasper. One day you'll love someone and you'll understand that."_

_"Who said I've never loved someone before?"_

Chapter 14 -You Can Sleep In A Coffin, But the Past Ain't Through With You

Alice came an abrupt halt, clutching my arm, forcing me to a jolting stop.

"Alice, that hurts."

"Wait…you…but…?"

"You are eloquent. Have you considered a career in word smithery?" I asked, prying her fingers from their iron grip.

"Oh shut up. You can't just spring something like that on me. Wait…is it…?"

_No, it couldn't be Errol. He's known him for what? A week?_

"It isn't Errol. What kind of a girl do you think I am?" I laughed at my joke and tried to keep walking. Again I found an iron shackle encasing my wrist.

"Stop walking away. You can't just say that and then leave. Consider this my random Alexander Fact of the Day," Alice said, tightening her grip. I was getting frustrated. Why had I said anything?

"Maybe later."

"No! Now."

Okay, very frustrated now.

"Look Alice, I'm helping you with your husband's tantrum, so can you please just leave it be."

"Alexander…" I pulled my arm out of her grip and began to run. I decided not to go back to the house now. Just as I was reaching the outskirts of town, I heard a faint thought from Alice.

_I'm sorry, Alexander. I won't tell. _

"Thank you Alice." I murmured to myself, switching directions violently. Narrowly missing a collision with a tree, I ran.

* * *

I perched in a tree for hours. Memories flooded back through a thick veil, put in place many years before.

_A figure lounging on mounds of garbage…nights spent watching, unseen from a window high above… a note...disappearing, and feeling so alone again…months later being caught feeding…_

And then the year that followed. An icy hand enclosed my heart and my mind screamed.

I laid my head on my knees, closing my eyes…wishing, for not the first time, to die.

The next day morning came, but I made no move to leave the tree. By late morning, I still hadn't moved. It was Saturday.

I didn't want to go back to the Cullens'.

I sat there through noon, and into evening, desperately trying to think of other things. I leapt from the tree. The sun had set and velvety black began to enclose the forest. I took a deep breath of the night air. The chill of it seared in my lungs and I could taste the coming snow.

I ran allowing my instincts to takeover, letting the scent of blood lead me. I tackled a mountain lion, taking a malicious pleasure in her screams of pain. The thick liquid seeping down my throat did little to satisfy my thirst. I had never truly felt a hunger…a need as great as I did now for the sweet blood of humans.

I hurled the empty carcass into a tree wiping at my mouth. I suddenly could feel the sweet pulse of a human's heart, the heat radiating off soft skin. Hunger fully consumed me, and I felt myself running toward Forks.

A face flashed before my eyes, and I slowed. Soon I had come to a full stop. I was in a clearing very near to the houses on the outskirts of town. I could smell it. See their minds. It took all of my strength not to move forward.

My chest heaved with unneeded breath. Rain was pouring down, soaking my hair, sliding off the marble of my skin. I collapsed to the mud beneath me, hugging my knees.

Alone.

* * *

**Monday: Errol **

My eyes ached from the glare of the sun reflecting off of fresh snow. I rolled off of bed, the rusted frame creaking. I froze, waiting for any repercussions. When none came, I stepped swiftly to the window to look into the driveway. It was empty.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping as I trudged over to the bureau. The mirror was cracked and spattered with blood from months ago. The bruise on my cheek was nearly gone, but there was a fresh cut across my forehead. I shook my head trying to cover it with my hair. It sort of worked. Not really.

I didn't used to have to worry about this. Then Ander came, and with Ander his number one fan, Clara. Ander was worth dealing with. Ander had enough secrets of his own that he couldn't warrant digging too much into my… affairs.

Clara was more of a liability. She was a genuinely nice girl, but she also seemed like the kind of girl who would take it upon herself to tell Ander all about me. For Alexander's own good, of course.

I dropped my head into my hands. I had two options. One I could just tell Ander.

I didn't like that option.

Two, I could stop speaking to him, and not see him anymore.

I really didn't like that option.

I sighed, pulling my shirt off and opening a drawer. I pulled the shirt down, pausing to examine that bruise forming across my ribs and upper chest. I pulled on a sweatshirt and a coat over it. Downstairs I opened the fridge. Empty. I would have to use some kind of magic to make it full by tonight. Shit.

I pulled my hood up and began the laborious trudge to school.

Six miles later I was late. School was going to begin in two minutes.

I began to run and soon I was entering the covered area and collided with a wall. A very thin, tall wall. With black hair. A wall called Ander. Clara was right, it was like running into a block of ice.

I felt his hand grip my shoulder, steadying me. His hand relaxed and was quickly withdrawn.

Well, option number one was out.

"Oh…er hi," Ander mumbled turning toward class.

"Hey," I said following after him, "Why are you late? You have a car."

"I…um…overslept. Up late," he mumbled speeding up his pace slightly, and I don't think it was because the bell had rung.

I ran to English, feeling very fortunate that Mrs. Crom was far too nice to punish anybody, especially since she was convinced that I hadn't gotten over my mom's death twelve years ago.

As expected, she didn't say anything, and allowed me to take my seat in the back without any fuss. I sat down, pulling out the homework from last night. I truly despised English solely because there was always a grammar unit and no matter what I do I can never figure out where the hell the goddamn commas go.

As a result my paper was crumpled and torn in places, pencil marks scratched through lines of text for no apparent reason. Even my somewhat neat handwriting didn't make up for the fact that it looked like the paper was mauled by a bear.

"Get a little frustrated, Erry?" Nixon. He hated me and made it no secret. Don't worry little buddy, the feeling is mutual. I stayed quiet.

"Ah, don't be that way, Erry."

Still nothing.

"I see you've learned the sullen stare from your precious goth freak." I broke.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if Alexander knew everything about you."

"That is-"

"Shh, class is starting Erry." All through class the pit of fear that had been forming in my gut since this morning seemed to open up and swallow me. Nixon would without a doubt feel free, and certainly take pleasure in telling Ander all about me. I had to make a decision. On the one hand Ander seemed like he wouldn't have a problem with it. On the other hand I knew a lot of people who didn't really care until it was someone they knew.

Next was history, and by then I had made up my mind to tell him after school. Knowing Clara she would ask for a ride home, so as not to have to walk in the thick snow outside. That gave me the whole length of town to ruin my only friendship.

In French I couldn't focus. But no one did. Mr. Calvin was a gym teacher who was filling in for the real thing, while Ms. Hawthorne had a baby. Mr. Calvin had taken German in high school. Which, short of an Asian language, was about as far as you could get from the French language.

Math was my worst subject. But due to the fact that I didn't want to deal with the other kids who were bad at math I was in Algebra ¾. It was hard and I barely got any of it, but I managed to scrape by on tests and usually ended the semester with a B or higher.

I walked to lunch slowly, without even the new and unusual anticipation of seeing a friendly face. I realized now that due to the empty fridge I hadn't brought a lunch. I sat down at the usual table and soon Clara and Ander had joined me.

"Ugh that Nixon guy is such a jerk!" Clara complained, plopping down next to Ander, who scooted away slightly, swallowing hard.

"Clara, it really wasn't a big deal. You'll get over it, I promise," Ander was in a bad mood. Usually he listened to Clara go on and on for hours without complaint.

"What did he do to you anyway?" I asked, curious and nervous.

"Oh it's not me! He came up to Ander, completely ignoring me I might add, and started patronizing him! He was talking about how much he totally loved My Organic Affair and how he thought they stopped wearing pants like that in eighties!" She paused thinking, "Although he was kind of right, it still wasn't very nice."

"You should go tell him that. I think that he will come make a formal apology and even maybe give me a lollipop!" Ander said, fists clenched, "He just hates me. He's in my PE class, and always just gets mad because I'm faster than him."

"Alexander's right, Clara. Leave it be. Nixon is always doing that to me. No big deal," Clara's eyes filled with pity and I wished I hadn't said anything. Luckily Ander changed the subject, holding up a bag of chips.

"Anyone?"

"Yes please," I said extending a hand. Ander looked like he was being very careful not to touch me as he dropped the chips into my grip. What if Nixon had already told him?

"Hey Alex," Said in a crooning voice. Thank you Clara. I knew I liked her.

"Yet again I say, don't call me Alex," Ander said. I noticed for the first time today that his eyes were black. He looked at Clara, softening slightly, "And yes, you can have a ride."

"Aw, gee thanks." She said. She paused briefly before continuing, sweeping a glance over Ander, "Why are you wearing the same thing as on Friday? Also, why do you smell like you've been living outside for days?"

I hadn't noticed, but she was right. He was wearing the same ancient looking t-shirt and torn jeans as on Friday. There was something off about him today.

"I had to go camping with my…er family. I was up all night last night, and we didn't get back until seven this morning."

Didn't he tell me this morning that he overslept? There was something really off about Ander today.

* * *

**Last Period; Alexander**

I was truly dreading this afternoon. I knew I had to keep my promise to Alice, but after Saturday I didn't know if I would be able to handle it.

I was scared.

A/N Well there you go. I don't know how I feel about this chapter. This is my first time writing as Errol. It all depends on how well this chapter is received whether we will hear from the Mysterious E more often. So review, give me your two cents.

Literally I would love spare change; I am broke right now. ; )


	15. Chapter 15

Note for Margaret: Hey

AN Here is the next chapter! Sorry it took forever, but I had it written on Sunday and emailed it to Margaret. Margaret checks her email only when I yell at her to, so that was a bit of a delay. But it's up now and I am very pleased with this chapter, especially compared to the fluffitude of the last one.

I was walking to the car, head down. My hair hung in wet, stringy locks around my face. I gazed up briefly, having forgotten where my car was. I saw Clara and Errol next to my car talking. I looked around quickly and saw nobody watching. I ran at full speed to hide behind a car, listening to what they were saying.

"I will," Errol said, looking Clara in the face.

"When?" Clara said, "You've known him for two months. You're lucky nobody else has told him."

"Nixon threatened to tell him. I was going to anyway, Nixon just gave me extra motivation."

"Better you than _Nixon_," Clara sneered his name.

"Yeah…and I knew you would tell eventually."

"As much as I'm insulted that you didn't trust me…yeah," Clara admitted staring down at her shoes, "I guess good luck. I doubt he'll be…mad? I don't know. I just think he'll be okay."

"Yeah. I hope."

_I really, really hope. _

Their conversation gnawed at the pit of my stomach and I walked quickly to the car.

"Finally," Clara shivered, sliding into the backseat of the car. Errol got in the front and I turned the key in the ignition. Loud screaming blared through the speakers. Clara groaned, burying her face in her backpack.

"Shit!" I said, trying to stop the CD. It was a very recent album. As in not out yet. I finally managed to eject it and stuffed in Bob Dylan's Highway 66.

"Why the loud, angry music?" Errol asked, turning up the CD.

"Bad mood this morning," I answered curtly. I pressed firmly on the gas, speeding by the other cars in the lot.

"Aren't you always in a bad mood?" Clara said, laughing. I smiled slightly.

"I suppose you could say that. Although that depends on how you look at it."

Errol chimed in, "I think he means what you're judging it on. When compared to say, a kitten, Alexander is a regular Grim Reaper, but when compared to me, he is in a perfectly fine mood."

"Yeah. What he said," I replied. I returned my attention to driving, pressing on the brake as a light turned red.

"Do you read?" Clara asked.

"No. As a driver I am required to be able to read signs, but those pretty pictures help," I replied, my voice thick with sarcasm. Errol snorted with laughter. Clara sighed, angry.

"No I mean like books."

"Oh! Well that changes things then. Yes I was quite a voracious reader. "

"Oh. Was? Why past tense?" Clara asked.

"I became much more enthralled in music once dear old dad was incarcerated," I replied.

"Oh. What about you Errol? What do you read?"

"Not much. I've read stuff. You know Shakespeare. Mark Twain. JK Rowling. The classics. But not so in to modern stuff. I find the term Young Adult Literature very patronizing."

"…you people are weird. I'm glad I'm getting out here." Clara said her goodbyes and departed from the car quickly. Her little brother came running out to greet her, but stopped short seeing the car. Clara quickly grabbed his hand and dragged him inside, talking quickly to him.

"Alexander, you can't tell mom, okay?"

"Why not? She doesn't say nice things about him!"

"But is that his fault? Mom is just old fashioned. Please, keep it a secret. You love secrets."

"I guess," Alexander grumbled, allowing Clara to pull him inside.

I made a u-turn at the end of the cul-de-sac and headed toward Errol's house. I would wait until I wasn't driving to fulfill my promise to Alice. Errol began talking.

"I'm guessing you've noticed people don't like me."

"Yes," I considered being nice and pretending to be naïve. I don't like to pretend. Much.

"Of course, you'd have to be blind. Do you want to know why?"

_Why would I ask? What if he doesn't give a shit about me, and doesn't care that I'm…that._

"Quite a bit actually."

"Well it happened last year, toward the end. I had this friend, Ryan. I never had very many friends, didn't trust people enough. But Ryan…I don't know, I guess I thought that he was different. His baby sister had died of leukemia two years earlier. I guess I liked knowing him because he understood losing someone, but he also kept me from ever feeling too bad for myself, since his loss was so much worse,"

"We were good friends. He didn't have many other friends either since he had no patience for pity. But one night we had gone to a party. He always got invited to the few parties that there are here, because girls…liked him quite a bit. Ryan never showed interest though. Never dated. I asked him once why, and he said it was because he had lost the only girl that mattered to him."

"That's nice," I said, missing Bailey dearly.

"Yeah I thought so, too," his tone was bitter, "Well we had walked back from the party and it was late. We were standing on his porch, and I don't what made me do it, but I kissed him."

My breath stopped. We were at his house by now, luckily, or I probably would have crashed my car.

"Okay," was all I could say.

"And I'll tell you he was pretty into it until his dad opened the door. Ryan punched me, and his dad threatened to call the police. I just stood there and took it. Then after like five minutes of his dad yelling at me and him just standing there staring at me, I ran home," he stopped.

_Why isn't he saying anything? What if Clara was wrong and he's not okay with it?_

"What happened then?" I asked, trying to assure him.

"Ryan's family moved two weeks later. Claimed that they couldn't bear to let Ryan live through the embarrassment, or be around a stalker like me. But don't worry, they stayed around just long enough to tell everybody. His mom sent an email to nearly every mother at Forks High. Thought she should warn them. When my dad heard, I thought he would kill somebody."

That's odd considering he beats you.

"People from the local churches would come to our door to try to express sympathy to my dad and try to save me. Every time the doorbell rang my dad made me go to the door and apologize for what I had done. It was everywhere, short of the news, that nice boy Errol Tourn was a faggot and none of your sons were safe from him."

"I'm sorry," I said, turning to look into his eyes. They held a deep sorrow, far older than his sixteen years.

"You see I heard that a lot. Everything kind of went downhill from there. I mean it blew over eventually, but as you can tell people still remember and they never talk to me if they can help it."

"Didn't anyone just not care?" I said. I thought times were different from when I was a human in the eighties. That was when everyone thought AIDS and HIV was all because of the evil gays. I thought it had changed. It was now illegal for any state to make same sex marriage illegal.

"Yeah, a few. Clara was one. I think she figured that she had never really known me, not talked to me very much, so it wasn't her business. And the band director's assistant."

"The band director doesn't have an assistant," I said, confused.

"That's because the current band director is the previous band director's assistant. The band director from last year got laid off, because his assistant was infinitely more talented than him. But anyway. One day Mr. Cross was gone so Ms. Lee was teaching instead. These girls kept laughing at me and asking if I wanted to borrow their lip gloss. They did it nearly every day, and every day Ms. Lee yelled at them for sucking at the clarinet and asked why they even bothered to take band. But that day they were doing it, and Ms. Lee stops demonstrating whatever she was doing on the clarinet and starts chewing them out for being 'worthless barbies, who needed to get over themselves and start to think for themselves'. One of them started crying. It was great. I wish I didn't have to quit band. Especially since Ms. Lee really liked me so much."

"Why did you quit then?"

"Because my dad stopped paying for the instrument. One day I got a call from the instrument store saying I needed to either pay for the month's rental or return it immediately. I asked my dad if it was a mistake, and he said no. He didn't say anything else. He had just stopped talking to me."

"Has he gotten over it yet?" I asked, angry.

"The talking thing? Yes. The gay thing? No. He actually started talking to me the next week. Told me that my mother hadn't wasted nine months of her life to have a son who was a worthless sinner and a fucking faggot. And that maybe if she hadn't had that little bastard she wouldn't have been driving to the store to get food, and then gotten hit by the semi. I have a feeling he just had a speech prepared that he'd had ready for years, but thought he would never get anyone to blame my mom's death on. Then I happened."

We sat in silence. I remembered my promise to Alice. Alice had probably seen this happening. I didn't know if she still expected me to make good, on trying to eat Errol.

"So that's why people don't talk to Errol," he finished. I could hear his heart beating irregularly. His thoughts were tortured, and miserable. I could tell he had been agonizing over this for days. Afraid I would hate him, or bring it up again and remind everyone why they didn't like him. I wanted to let him know I wouldn't do that.

"I talk to Errol," I said. He looked up and smiled weakly at me. Errol pushed a hand back through his hair to reveal a long, red gash.

"Why won't you just admit your dad does that to you?" I asked, anger blossoming inside me again.

"Does what-" he broke off grazing his fingers across his forehead, "Oh, that."

"Yes, that. Why won't you just admit it?"

"Because it's not true," Errol said, not even trying to sound convincing.

"Trust me, Errol, I know it's true. I also know how appealing it is to keep it a secret. It's a bad idea," I glared at him, my black eyes slits.

"How do you know? What the hell makes you think you understand?" he asked returning my glare.

"Because I didn't tell anyone. And it took my mom getting killed for it to stop. You don't have anyone else to get killed, but yourself."

"That's what happened to your mom? That's why your dad's in prison?" he asked, looking at me hard.

"Yes," I answered stonily. Turning my eyes back out the window, "Now we both know something fun and exciting about each other! We should start a club. With hats."

We sat in silence for a while. I decided I might as well take advantage of his presence and the lack of conversation to make good on my promise to Alice. I began to pull pictures, memories, and feelings from my mind.

_Thinking back to the first time I drank a human's blood, feeling disgusted at myself for feeling so deeply satisfied, and not feeling guilty about it… Imagining my most satisfying meal, thick blood like nectar running down my throat…the desperate moans of my prey… Then what Errol would taste of. His unique scent was one that would translate well to blood. Sweet, but spicy with an exotic tang. Deeply satisfying. _

_I imagined moving quicker than he could anticipate, immobilizing him in my grasp, tearing at the warm taut skin of his throat. _

_I made the decision. I set myself to the thought and determined myself to carry it out. Promised myself the greatest of pleasures to_ _sink my teeth into the web of vessels beneath the soft, fragile shell of his neck. The high of feeling an erratic pulse against my tongue, and the villainous satisfaction of the pleasure derived from the pain of my victim. _

I felt the warm pressure of Errol's hand on my shoulder. My eyes snapped open, senses on alert.

"Are you okay?"

Suddenly the warm air of the car was thick with Errol's pungent aroma. I was hyperaware of the pulse racing in his neck, and of the bead of sweat that rolled down the back of his neck. I could smell the scent of his soap and the detergent on his clothes.

Suddenly control seemed far, far away. Out of reach.

Suddenly I felt no need to even reach for the control I normally held.

I only wanted the satiate the desire I had.

AN Again sorry for the delay, but as a fan fiction aficionado I know how frustrating it is to read stories with hideous grammar and spelling. So isn't worth the wait to make the chapter readable? I like to have answers to my questions. Review!!

…Please?


	16. Chapter 16

Errol

_Errol _

I felt like I was in some kind of shock. But a…happy shock, I guess. I thought I almost saw relief in his eyes.

I don't know why I thought no one would notice what my father does. I was shocked to realize that it was almost a relief that Ander knew. Realizing that he hadn't spoken in minutes, I picked up my head to look at Ander.

He was breathing heavily, with his head leaning against the seat. His jaw was tight and his hands clenched into fists. I reached out cautiously to place my hand on his shoulder. His eyes opened faster than I could register.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned. I began to withdraw my hand, but in a movement like lighting Ander grabbed my wrist, holding it tightly.

He turned his face toward me and what I saw scared me. His eyes were black and seemed to almost glow. They held a dangerous lust that sent knives through my bones. I averted my eyes down to my wrist, trying to escape those eyes.

His long fingers were like iron fetters on my arm, and stood out bone white against my skin. Anders fingers loosened slightly to slide up my arm. My breath caught as his fingers brushed my neck. He looked back up at me, his eyes still holding that same lust, but softer. I couldn't have moved even if I had wanted to. Ander moved forward slowly and I felt the weight of his head on my shoulder. My heart stopped as he pressed his lips against my neck. I hesitantly wrapped an arm around his shoulder to weave my fingers in his hair. His only reaction was to move slightly to kiss my ear.

Ander pressed another kiss to my neck before moving back slightly. I moved my other hand to press it against his chest. His icy breath danced on my neck before I felt the slightest sting of teeth. I gasped slightly. Ander withdrew sharply. A minute passed before he moved slightly to whisper in my ear.

"You should go inside, Errol."

He pulled back gently. My hand fell loosely from his hair to rest on his shoulder, my other still on his chest.

"What?" I asked, still a little foggy from what was happening.

"Please," he averted his eyes down, "g-get out of the car."

It felt like I was punched in the stomach. I couldn't believe I'd let this happen again. I was angry at myself, and at Alexander.

"Why?" I asked, attempting to make my voice firm. And failing. He brought his eyes back up to meet mine, and they were apologetic.

"Because I'm not strong enough."

"What does that mean?" I asked, my voice soft.

"I can't tell you."

"Fine," I said, dejected, getting out of the car, "I guess I'll see you…or not."

"Errol, wait…" he grabbed my hand, holding it with surprising strength, "Nothing's changed."

I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

_Alexander_

I drove home in a state of panic. I couldn't believe what I'd done. And what was even worse, I knew Alice was watching. Not only that, but I knew at least Edward had seen it in her thoughts. I doubted Jasper could feel it, but that was assuming Alice hadn't told them. I prayed she had only told them I had almost lost control.

I drove slower than I usually did, but that really wasn't saying much. Eventually I pulled into the driveway.

_Alexander-_ Alice. I quickly blocked her thoughts. Before I cut off her mental link I saw that the whole family was in the living room. I got out of the car and ran as fast as I could. I made a feeble attempt to speed past the living room.

Like I said, a feeble attempt. Before I even reached the stairs I felt Jasper caught me from behind. I struggled snarling, trying to break free.

"Alexander," Carlisle said, firmly. I heard disappointment in his thoughts.

I gave up escape. I kept my head down, my hair in front of my face. Emmett grabbed hold of my other arm. I saw Edward's feet standing a foot away. He reached out and roughly dragged my chin up. The others, save for the two restraining me, were standing behind him looking carefully. Carlisle looked disappointed, Esme concerned, Rosalie disgusted, and Alice apologetic. I noticed Bella wasn't in sight. After two minutes of carefully examining my eyes, he declared,

"Gold."

I glared at him coldly, allowing fierce hatred to build in my eyes. I sneered at him, spitting out,

"Your precious psychic could have told you that."

Jasper snarled tightening his grip.

"Jasper, relax. He's right," Alice said, still looking guilty, "I should have seen that he did nothing."

"I would hardly say he did nothing, Alice," Rosalie said, he mouth in a feral smile. Taunting me.

_I've never tasted human blood, Alexander. _I'm_ strong._

"Bloody-fucking great for you, Rosy," I said. Emmett cuffed me over the head.

"Alexander, please calm down," Carlisle said before turning to Alice, "Is it safe to let him go?"

"Yes, it's fine," Alice said quietly. Moments passed. Nobody moved or said anything.

"Jasper, Emmett let him go," Carlisle said, firmly. They listened this time. Emmett moved away, growling a warning, to stand by Rosalie, while Jasper moved silently to stand by Alice. Nobody spoke for minutes.

Rosalie sighed loudly, turning to Carlisle, "Please tell me you are going to do something? You promised that if he slipped, he'd be gone. He slipped."

"He didn't do anything!" Alice exclaimed, panic in her eyes.

"Yeah I'm sure that Errol kid didn't even notice him going for his jugular! Totally subtle," Emmett said, taking Rosalie's side.

A spark of hope ignited inside me. Maybe they didn't understand everything that was happening.

_Oh I understand. _Edward. I looked up at him sharply. He didn't look angry. I just hoped he wouldn't tell.

_I won't. _

Edward sighed, "You can't make him leave the family for almost attacking someone. I saw Alice's vision. The kid wasn't even suspicious."

At that moment Bella entered, looking worried and angry.

"What are you doing? Why does Rosalie want Alexander to leave?" she glared icy daggers at her 'sister'.

"Because Alexander very nearly killed a human. And once he had clearly given himself away he didn't just finish the job. So, there is a human out there who could be onto us," Emmett said throwing his hands in the air dramatically.

Bella moved to Edward's side, pulling his arm around her. "Edward nearly killed me the first time he met me and we all know how well that turned out."

"I'm not saying he has to leave. I just think there should be some consequences," Rosalie said, softening slightly to Bella's statement.

"Punishment? Like what put me in a corner? I'm eighty-seven years old. I didn't do anything. Believe it or not I was there, and he was completely ignorant," I said quietly.

Bella looked up at Edward questioningly.

_He? I thought it was that Clara girl._

"Look, this can just be a… warning," Alice said, shakily, "He did nothing. Just leave it be."

_I'm so sorry, Alexander. I'll explain to Carlisle if he decides to kick you out. I won't let you take the fall for this._

"I agree with Alice," Esme said, looking at me kindly.

"I do too. Rosalie, Emmett he did nothing to deserve abandonment," Carlisle said. He smiled kindly at Bella as he said, "And I think Edward would be quite upset as Bella has become quite fond of him."

There was silence for several minutes. I could hear a guilt-ridden happiness in Jasper's mind. At least I had accomplished what Alice wanted. Rosalie was seething that I would see no punishment, and Emmett was apologizing to me in his mind.

_I have to take the Mrs.' side._

"Maybe you should go hunting, dear," Esme suggest reaching over to squeeze my shoulder. I nodded silently and moved toward the door.

"I'll go with him," Edward said, following me, "Just to be safe."

We ran for several miles until we were out of earshot. I was in no way, shape, or form hungry. I'd eaten yesterday night. I'll probably go another three weeks before I even think of food. So I sat by and watched quietly as Edward found and devoured a mountain lion.

"I take it you won't be eating."

"No."

"Why is Alice so guilty? She was blocking her thoughts from me up until you came home. What was she going to explain to Carlisle?" he asked, leaning against a tree.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh? I know your powers, Alexander. I know that you would have to work much harder to be tempted by his blood then to resist it. How is Alice involved in this?" Edward said, exhibiting a nerve-rackingly profound knowledge of my ability.

"She asked me do it. Jasper was planning to leave. To take Alice with him and leave the coven. Alice said it was because he expected me to be more bloodthirsty. He feels angry and frustrated about the fact that he is still the weakest in the family. He thought I would understand his troubles since I have fed on human blood for so long and so regularly."

"So what could you do about that?" Edward asked, arching one eyebrow.

"Alice wanted me to pretend to slip. Not actually attack, but be convincing enough to give her a vision. She just wanted Jasper to feel more secure," I said.

"So how did you end up…doing that?" he asked.

"Amazing imagination. But I didn't bite him. That's all that matters."

"You know that's not what I'm talking about," Edward said smirking.

"Do I?" I said.

Edward laughed, boomingly, "Oh, don't worry. He seemed to be enjoying it."

I snarled at him, showing my teeth.

"If it makes you feel any better, only Alice and I know. Although I can't speak for Alice, I doubt either of us will tell anyone."

"I would prefer you two not to know in the first place," I sneered.

"Better Alice and I, then Emmett or Rosalie."

"Yes, but better no one than you and Alice," I smiled slightly. I just hoped he wouldn't ask if this wasn't my first "experimentation" as he put it in his mind.

Right, may I note the somewhat creepiness of this chapter?

**The kinda creepy plot/theme of this chapter**

**The fact that there were almost no spelling or grammar mistakes**

**But I have to admit, I do want to know what happens next, especially if Errol finds out Alexander is a vampire, which I think will probably happen. BTW, this is sad. Your other readers figured out that Errol was gay before I did and I grade the freakin story!!! I'm kind of ashamed of myself. However, I make up for that by grading this chapter in under half an hour. Anyhow, I wait in anticipation for the next chapter.**

**Yeah so that was what Margaret thought of the chapter. Sorry I didn't realize it was there when I posted it last night because I didn't read through it (what? I trust Margaret). I promised her I would erase it, but i think I like it way too much. Sorry Margaret ;) **

**Who knows? Maybe Margaret will forgive me if she gets some shout outs in _all_ those reviews I know you wonderful, beautiful readers will write! ...Please.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N** **Here is the next chapter. Woo! Thanks for all of the reviews.**

Edward and I didn't have much to talk about after that. We returned back to the house soon, and I barely had time to put music on before Alice came around to apologize.

"Alexander, I-" I shook my head quickly. I pictured myself telling her not to say anything here. To go somewhere else. Her face went blank, but when she returned she was smiling.

"Clever. Come on."

We walked out of the house and began running until we came to that same clearing where she had devised the brilliant plan that had gotten me into so much trouble. Alice thumped to the ground, with a movement that lacked her usual grace. Her face fell into her hands, her thoughts sad and angry at herself. I sat about a foot away from her, shifting awkwardly.

"Did you need to say something, Alice?" I asked quietly, after a few moments. She turned her face up to me, incredulous.

"I just nearly got you exiled from what could have been, possibly the first family you've ever known, for a crime that you not only didn't commit, but one I pushed you to fake! You should be furious, and violent. You should be whaling on me right now. Hell, I wouldn't even fight. But instead you ask if there was anything I needed to say?"

"Well I certainly am not going to hit you. My mama raised me up right. And my pa taught me that it's best to use your words, not your fists," I said, putting on a faux southern twang. Alice giggled.

"You're funny," Alice said, "And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have overestimated your strength…or underestimated my family's understanding."

"It's okay. I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't harm him and he still remains blissfully ignorant."

"Are you okay Alexander?"

"What do you mean? I'm invincible. I'm always okay," I responded, avoiding the clear question in her mind.

"Now you're bugging me. You know what I mean," There was a long pause where neither of us spoke. Suddenly Alice turned to me, her face alight. "You know what we haven't done in a while? Random Alexander Facts!"

I looked at her, my face expressionless, eyes cold.

"Why in the world would you think of that _now_?" I asked, my voice icy.

"Two things. One- you know why I would think of that now since you can read my thoughts. Two- I wish you wouldn't always pretend to be so dark and scary!" She put on an awful impression of my voice, an odd mixture of a stoner and Brett Michaels, " 'Oh! I'm Alexander and I have an awful tortured past, such that I can't possibly take ten minutes to help my new best buddy Alice know more about me. I'm going to go sit and cry while listening to someone scream! Wah.' "

"That was a truly terrible impression. But I will humor you," I said resigning myself to Alice's persistence.

"Okay. Question numero uno. What did you mean before about being in love?"

"I meant I'd been in love before," I said resolutely. I didn't continue, and Alice rolled her eyes.

"You know you can't get through life answering questions with the barest of minimal answers."

I grinned before replying, "Actually I've gotten through a lifetime and then some, but I understand the meaning of the statement. What else did you want to know?"

"What was her name? When did you meet her? How did you meet her?" she paused slightly before continuing, "What happened to her?"

I closed my eyes, a headache forming and dropped my head into my hands, grumbling.

"English please. I don't speak grunt," Alice quipped. Clearly, she had completely moved past the whole apologizing, being nice to Alexander thing.

"Pick the one you like the most."

"Hmmm…let me think. And I can pick three, remember?" she said poking me in the side.

"Wait until you hear the answer to the first one. You might change your mind," I replied, lifting my head from my hands to look at her.

She smiled, "Wow, it's almost like you're trying to make it _easier_ to get to know you. I'm floored."

There was a long pause as she thought. Finally Alice broke the silence, a grin breaking on her face.

"How did you meet her?"

"Actually, I imagine they did not find me particularly charming when they first met me. They er…walked in on me while I was feeding."

"So they knew what you were?"

"From the very beginning. I was still in New York at the time. I had been changed about eighteen months earlier so I wasn't particularly good at being aware of many things at once. They took me by surprise. The unlucky fellow I had taken was already dead. I was wholly ready to kill the person who had disrupted me, although I would have preferred not to."

"Can I interrupt to ask another question before you continue this answer?"

"I suppose. They are your questions and you only get three so use them wisely."

"I'm confused by your feeding habits from before you came here. Obviously, you fed off both humans and vampires, but I guess I don't really understand the dynamics of any of it," she said looking puzzled and genuinely interested.

"You have to promise to get off the high horse your entire family seems to permanently reside upon. You have to understand that before your family I had only seen three vampires. And only two of them up close. For the first several months I didn't think I could go out into daylight. I had been raised on a steady diet of my mother's love for vampires and every myth that came with them. I didn't know there was an alternative to humans for nearly fifty years."

"Promise. I haven't always fed on animals either."

"I know Alice," I tapped my head, before continuing, "I fed on humans for the first fifty years. The lover you're so curious about was a resident in a hospital and was able to get me jobs such that I had access to blood without having to actually kill anyone. For the past thirty-seven years or so I have fed on and off on humans and animals, depending on my situation. I much prefer human blood, but recent ties with those of that species have given me reason to satiate my thirst with animals."

"Thank you. You may continue," Alice said smiling.

"I feel like I am saying too much," I said, slightly embarrassed by how much I had said.

"Nope. In fact you haven't said nearly enough. Not all of us are blessed with the ability to read minds."

"Where was I?"

"You would prefer not to kill them…"

"Oh, yeah. Well I disarmed them quickly, disorienting them. I could hear their thoughts. And I had always avoided doing that before I killed someone. I was too soft I suppose. They said they wouldn't tell anyone, but they wanted to know more about it. Threatened to tell if I didn't come with them, and answer their questions."

"Didn't they realize you could have killed them with a flick of you wrist?"

"I don't think so. But they also didn't realize that I was far to compassionate to kill them. I told myself that this would always be an option should I decide it needed to be done. Like I said, I was weak. I allowed my curiosity to overwhelm my instinct."

"So you went with her and answered all her questions?"

"Most of them. I had been feeding in an alley between two buildings. One of them was their apartment building. Heard a struggle and came to investigate on their way home."

"Wow."

She just sat there staring at me. I didn't want to meet her eyes. She gently reached over and turned my face to look at her.

**Alice's POV**

"What did she look like?" I was curious. Since I was so used to seeing pictures in my head, I liked to have a face to picture. He closed his eyes, looking peaceful. I didn't want to ask yet what had happened to her. I was afraid it wasn't anything good, and if it was bad, I didn't want to remind him.

He opened his eyes and began to speak, "Red hair, kind of like Edward's, but redder. It was long, which was the trend then. It was still the eighties. Hazel eyes. A mix of green and brown, but very deep. Like water and leaves."

"She sounds pretty." He just nodded. I was taking in all of the details he had just shared. Reflecting on the conversation, I realized that he had never given me her name.

When I looked back to him, Alexander's face had returned to its stony mask, all of the tenderness it had held a moment ago was gone.

"You're out of questions. And…if you could not tell anyone else about this…"

"Of course I won't," He stood up and I followed suit, brushing myself off.

We began to walk back. I had expected him to run. Usually he liked to get away quickly after any kind of a conversation. I decided to press my luck.

"One more. A truly trivial question. You can even pass with one word." He sighed, turning to look at me. His eyes held an age that revealed his many years. Alexander showed no signs of response so I pressed on.

"What was her name?"

There was a short pause and his lips curved up into a smile. He laughed shortly. It wasn't entirely pleasant. A kind of a sarcastic, manic sound.

"Anthony."

**A/N Well, we just celebrated thanksgiving here in America (that knifty traffic thing tells me I actually have readers in other countries! How cool is that? Someone in Poland totally _reads _my story about an angsty gay teenage vampire boy! It blows my mind), so I basically spent the last two days eating pie and turkey. But I like to keep giving thanks all year so in spirit for that I would love to have some reviews to give thanks for. I will also give you something to give thanks for! (confused by my wording? Yeah me too!) So I intend to have at least one more chapter up between now and my birthday. After that I might get one more chapter up, but...as a super special holiday present, I am going to write a one-shot (very long one shot) that's the whole story of Alexander and Anthony. So look forward to that and review...a lot. If your ever bored and are like "Man I wish I could make someone feel cool!"...review my story! Jeez long author's note. What is up with this kid?**


	18. Chapter 18

**Wow! So speedy. I hope you enjoy. Most likely will not get another chapter up before the end of the week, but who knows. Most likely I will be working feverishly on the brain monkey that is the Anthony-Alexander one-shot. This whole chapter is Errol just because, you know, dude's been speaking to me lately. **

Errol's POV

Alexander's last words rang in my mind.

_Nothing's changed. _

What in the world did that mean? Nothing's changed. Like he didn't want things to be awkward? Or like he didn't really…_like_ me. God, I felt like an eleven-year old girl, wondering if the cute new kid _liked _me. But I couldn't help it. It was just like it was with Ryan. Only…stronger, maybe? I was so confused. All I'd known was how much it hurt when he told me to get out of the car.

It was so weird though. Only now did I start to wonder about that one thing he said.

_Because I'm not strong enough._

I was seriously curious now. It felt like he was trying to talk to me without actually talking. When he had looked at me, with the apology in his eyes, it was like he was trying to get me to stay, to ignore what he was saying.

I guess there was only one thing I wasn't confused about. I was definitely getting feelings for Ander. As in I can still feel that place on my neck, and I keep reaching up and touching my ear where he whispered…his breath like the snowy air.

I was lying on my bed, messy and unmade. The room was filled with a racking cold from the cracked window that wouldn't close. I moved a hand up to run through my hair, and stopped.

Suddenly I had one more thing to be confused about. Ander was definitely different. Way different. I remembered now. I'd been too jaded at the time to notice. This afternoon was the first time he had touched me except for the occasional accidental brush. Clara was right. He was ice cold.

Ander's hand tracing up my arm, had left goose bumps, and not just in the sappy "romantic" way. His hand on my face, his lips on my neck and ear; it had all felt like he had stuck his hand in a freezer or something.

My hand had gone limp in my hair and I dragged it down to touch the place on my neck he had nearly bitten. I felt a moist residue under my fingertips. That's odd. His teeth had barely grazed my neck. I pulled my hand away, examining the slick on my finger. There was a lot of it, too. I wasn't really grossed out or anything, even though I probably should have been, just confused. I moved my fingers closer to look at it.

It smelled amazing. I had taken a breath and caught the scent of it on my fingers. It was the most sweetly, enticing aroma. Very weird.

I rolled off the bed, careful not touch anything with my fingers, not wanting to lose the amazing scent. The bathroom was down the hall, past a clock. Five o clock. I was good for another two hours or so. The bathroom mirror was the only one in the house that you could have a hope of seeing any kind of image in. I turned the light on and tilted my head up to examine the exposed skin of my throat where he had been.

I gasped. There was a tiny bruising there. Purplish, like he had just missed breaking the skin. That was impossible. The liquid on my hand shone, reminding me of that quandary. There was no way that was saliva.

I placed my fingertips there, and felt the steady beat of my heart. The bruising, the spot where he had kissed me, it was directly over my _pulse_. After everything that's happened, it's really hard for me to convince myself that that was a coincidence.

Maybe I should just talk to him. I mean he told me his dad beat him. That he watched his own father kill his mom. If he told me that, how hard is it to explain a little premature hicky and fragrant saliva. And icy body temperatures. And those eyes…

I was getting seriously obsessed with this. What answers could I get out of this anyway? What do I expect is going to come from this?

This isn't some fairy tale. It's not like he's going to be Captain America. I think all that whaling my dad does on me is giving me serious head problems.

* * *

The next day I walked to school, leaving extra early so I had time to think of everything that happened the previous day. This morning I had woken, feeling hung over. My dad had gotten home later than expected last night, and was too tired to do much more than knock me around a little bit. I relished the feeling of the cold air that soothed the tender skin of my arms and chest. The bruise on my neck had gotten slightly darker, a little bit larger. That could be awkward to explain. I didn't use to have to worry about this stuff.

I got to school with a few minutes to spare. The lot was crowded with people, outrageously cheery for how early and how cold it was. The only figure that seemed to fit my mood was Ander. I spotted him instantly (not in a creepy way. It's just you don't get many Goths in these parts) talking to Clara. I moved closer but not close enough for either of them to become aware of me. Alexander seemed antsy, wanting to get out of the crowd, but Clara was as unobservant as always.

I opted to not go to them yet. I would see them at lunch, presuming Ander wasn't avoiding me. But, I reminded myself happily, Clara was as obtuse as a c² a²+b² triangle, and she was way too clingy to let Alexander leave without some reason. I felt bad, thinking about Clara this way, especially since Ander clearly harbored no feelings for her. A wave of guilt rushed through me at how satisfied that made me feel.

Classes were dull as usual and every moment seemed to tick more slowly as it neared the lunch period. Eventually though, I was sitting down with a sack of food I had scrounged from our fridge, at the same table I always sat at. I took my lunch out and picked at it, as I pretended to read from the book assigned for English. Finally I was satisfied with the clatter of a tray and looked up to see Clara thump down on the bench across from me, and Ander perch next to her, placing the tray down silently in front of him.

"Errol…" Clara asked, stifling a giggle, "_What_ is on your neck?"

I had prepared for this. "My cat. She likes to sleep on my face, and she scratched me," I explained as smoothly as possible. My eyes flashed to Ander for the first time. His eyes were still black, and they were glued to that spot on my throat, a look of pure terror on his face. Clearly he knew it hadn't been my cat.

"Aww, you have a cat?" Clara said, distracted.

"Yeah," I said turning back to her.

"Cute," she said, turning to ask Ander something about German.

We sat in comfortable silence for a few moments as Clara and I ate. Alexander didn't touch any of the food he had bought. Just like always. His hand was clutched around his pop bottle, his knuckles looked like they were about to burst through the marble skin stretched across his pale hand.

Clara began talking to me, and I tried to listen attentively, but I could help glancing over to Ander occasionally. He was busily destroying the bagel on his tray, tearing it to shreds with long pale fingers. I remembered how hard they had been on my wrist. His thumb had left a perfect bruise right over my pulse there too.

* * *

Clara, still oblivious to the obvious tension between her male counterparts, begged for a ride from our friend with the car. Before I could escape, cowardly as always, Ander asked if I wanted a ride. Clara slid in the back as usual, leaving me to ride shotgun. When Alexander turned the car on there was no music. None. It had become a joke between us to guess what mood he had been in that morning, and what would be blaring through his speakers that afternoon.

"Why no music?" Clara asked, voicing my thoughts.

"I had a lot on my mind this morning. Music was too distracting," he responded, his eyes locked on mine.

"Huh," Clara said, turning to look out the window. Due to Ander's less than law obliging vehicular ways, we arrived quickly at her house. Ander and I stayed quiet until we pulled to a stop in front of my house.

I made no move to get out. I knew he didn't want me to. He had dropped his head into his hands, and I welcomed the opportunity to stare at him. His hair fell forward in an inky black wave, his hands pale and graceful, even when stationary. I swept my eyes over the rest of him. Black clothing as always, but I noticed something I hadn't before. He was wearing a plain long sleeved shirt that accentuated how painfully thin he was. I could see the slight falter where his ribs protruded. I quickly averted my gaze as he flinched out of his hunched position. Ander's eyes caught and held mine. They held such…sadness, and vulnerability.

"I…I hurt you, Errol."

"What?" I asked mesmerized still by the way his eyes captured me. Ander's hand reached out tentatively to grasp my hand. He gently pulled it so my arm was stretched out, palm up. His other hand pushed up the sleeve of my shirt and jacket to reveal the bruise on my wrist. It had grown since I had looked at it last night. It was now a perfect cast of his hand.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did yesterday. It was…dangerous."

"I don't…I want to understand," I said, my heart racing. I had never seen him look so apologetic. Ander's eyes bore into mine, and they held a deep sadness beyond his fifteen years. He began to shake his head slowly.

"You don't. I promise you."

"Yes…I do. Just every word you say leaves me so confused," he looked a little less resolute.

"What are you confused about?" Ander's voice was soft, and pained.

"What did you mean yesterday…that you weren't strong enough?" He had dropped his hand so it was lying on the rest between us, trapping mine beneath his.

"What happened yesterday… I can't explain this to you. Not without saying too much. "

"Is there anything you can tell me?" I was getting frustrated.

"Why don't you just tell me what you're so confused about?"

I breathed deeply. I felt his hand stiffen on top of mine, as I began to sort through all that I was confused about.

"You're so cold. Your hands, your breath, it's like ice," I gently picked up his hand, holding it between mine. I looked up to his face, checking how he had responded to this. His eyes were closed serenely, his lips curved slightly. "You're strong beyond your size. And the…bruise on my neck. It felt like you barely touched me, but the mark was like you'd almost broken skin."

The tortured look was back on his face. I didn't stop. I knew if I did I would never be able to keep going.

"And…later, after you left, I was in my room and there was this stuff on my neck. It was liquid, and it smelled…amazing. But it couldn't have been saliva," I quickly ducked my head, realizing now how silly it was to say that.

"Errol. You have to tell me something," his face was dangerous, his eyes scared, "None of my…saliva got into a cut or wound. Your _father_," he spit the word out with disgust, "didn't do anything to you when it was on you?"

What in the world did that have to do anything? But his face was so full of concern…

"No. He didn't break any skin last night. And it came off in the shower today," why did I feel the need to add _that_ detail?

He sighed, and his face relaxed into a relieved expression.

"Why? You can't just dump that on me and expect me not to be befuddled!"

"Look. I promise I will tell you…I just have to ask Ed- my parents something," he paused slightly, predicting what I was about to say, adding before I could speak, "Will you be at your house the rest of the night?"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be a good idea for you to come knocking at my door when my dad's here."

"Don't worry about it," he said, smirking.

I realized to my extreme embarrassment, that I was still holding his hand. I started to stutter out an apology. He only smiled at me, shaking his head. As I got out of the car I swear I heard him mumble something about the warmth.

**A/N**

_"Wow, did the inspirational fairy visit you or something?" _**That was Margarets opening statement in her review. Just thought I would share that little tidbit since it made me laugh a lot. Anyone who has been in geometry or is suffering through it right now will understand the awkward math joke I shoved in there. Hope you all enjoyed it! Also....**

**Love it? Hate it? Love me for writing a great story? Hate me for writing a great story and _never_ updating (save for this exceptionally speedy one)? Tell me all about it! Review!... And tell your friends.**


	19. Chapter 19

A/N sorry to disappoint but this is the same chapter as last time only Margaret has edited it...

but any reviews to talk about really great commas would be greatly appreciated. ;)

Alexander's POV

I sped home, anxious about what I was going to do. Before I told Errol anything I had to ask Edward. Rosalie was still infuriated that I hadn't been punished for yesterday and had gone on a hunting trip, taking Emmett with her. Alice was downstairs playing chess with Jasper, and murmured a hello before capturing his last bishop. Esme must have been buying groceries. I heard her planning to do that this morning. She did this every few weeks or so, so as not to attract more suspicion than we already did.

I walked up the stairs at a human pace thinking of what I would say, blocking my thoughts. When I got to the door of Edward and Bella's room, I knocked cautiously.

"Come on in, Alexander," Bella's clear voice called from inside the room. I opened the door to find Bella reading on the couch, and Edward surrounded by stacks of CDs up to his waist. He looked up at me and I raised one eyebrow curiously.

_Re-alphabetizing._

Bella set her book on the table, and asked, "What do you need?"

I stood there awkwardly for a second before speaking. "Umm, I was wondering if I could talk to Edward for a second."

"Of course," Bella smiled, and stood up off the couch, picking up her book before leaving. Edward watched her shut the door before turning to me.

"I take it this isn't a question about math?" No, I'm very good at math. I wouldn't need your help. My thoughts were still blocked from him, so he didn't hear this. I should probably stay on his good side. I just shook my head. He nodded before crouching and jumping effortlessly over the wall of CDs. He sat on the couch and motioned for me to join him.

I ran a hand through my hair, anxious. "I think I need to ask permission before I do something. Just so you guys don't … kill or excommunicate me or something."

Edward stared at me, trying to break through my mental wall. I grudgingly allowed him into my mind.

_Would you like the whole house to hear this conversation or would you prefer to keep it private? _His thoughts and expression were condescending.

_I suppose that would be smart. I'm going to tell Errol about what I am. _

_That would probably be smart after your little display yesterday._ He chuckled, smirking.

I glared at him._ That isn't the only reason. He's smarter than other people in school. He's noticed the obvious species difference. _

He nodded. _I think you should tell me exactly what happened yesterday. _

_I did what Alice needed me to do. Except I overestimated the control I had. I allowed myself to get to close to him and I almos- I started to bite him. But I didn't, and he left not suspecting anything. Well, anything other than a romantic encounter, I suppose. _

I checked his reaction to this. _It's okay. The first time I was in the same room with Bella I almost killed her. What happened that you think you need to tell him? _

_Like I said, he's smart. I left a bruise on his wrist. He showed it to me today, and it was an exact imprint of my hand. Not exactly something a waifish human could do. I nearly had a heart attack today. He had a bruise on his neck where I almost bit him, and I realized how close I came to killing him. And I left some of my venom on him. He didn't know exactly what it was but he knew it wasn't normal._

_It probably would be best to tell him then. _

I nodded, somber. I couldn't believe I'd been so obvious. I'd acted stupidly.

_You shouldn't feel bad, Alexander. I essentially spelled it out for Bella. I wasn't even the one who told her. She figured it out on her own. _

I cracked a smile small, laughing slightly. I stood up, glancing at the clock.

_I should probably wait until dark to go._

He must have seen my plans in my thoughts because he burst out laughing. I glared at him coldly.

"Don't laugh at me," he laughed even harder. By the time he was sane again, I was walking out.

"No don't be angry. It's just, that's exactly what I did with Bella. Only I suppose slightly more stalkerish."

_How so?_

_I watched her sleep for weeks before we started dating._

_That is extremely creepy. I'm surprised she didn't call the police._

With this I left and shut myself in my room to wait.

* * *

I set off to Errol's house around eleven. Everyone but Edward (and I suppose Alice, for it was inevitable) thought I was going hunting. I was at his house within five minutes and followed his scent to find his window. I could smell dried blood thickly in the room. It was very old, but I had to accustom myself to it. I waited a few minutes before entering.

Errol's POV (**I'm going to be switching between them erratically throughout the rest of the chapter**)

I'd waited, but he'd never come. It was eleven now, and I figured I might as well go to sleep. My dad had just gotten home a little bit ago and I hoped he wasn't planning on coming up anytime soon. I'd turned my light off and was hovering on the edge of sleep when I heard a light thunk on the other side of the room. Shit.

My dad must have gotten up the energy to come pound on me. I pretended to be asleep, hoping he would just leave. I felt him come very close to my bed, and felt cool breath on my face. Instead of reeking of alcohol it smelled sweet, like nectar. A gentle hand touched my shoulder before a low smooth voice whispered,

"Errol?"

Alexander's POV

His window was slightly ajar, plenty for me to jump in. My feet thumped lightly on the floor. I looked around. There was a bed and bureau that were both very old and falling apart. There were blood stains everywhere and my heart ached with sympathy. I focused on the bed and could tell Errol was sleeping. I walked silently to the bed and crouched in front of him. I examined his face for a moment, examining his delicate features. He wasn't really sleeping, but I pretended to be fooled. I gently placed a hand on his warm shoulder and whispered his name.

His eyes popped open surprised. Errol blinked, his eyes trying to adjust to the darkness.

"Did I scare you?" I asked, backing up slightly, when I realized how close I was. He shook his head and sat up, pulling his legs to his chest.

I took the invitation to sit on the vacated end of the bed, "Good."

"How did you get past my dad?" Errol asked.

I jerked my head toward the window, "It was open."

He nodded, shivering.

"You must be freezing. It's like twenty degrees outside. Why don't you close the window?"

"I've tried to. It's been like that since my dad nearly threw me through it," I wish he wouldn't say that so nonchalantly. My jaw tightened, and to hide my fury I stood up to fix it. I walked over silently and effortlessly closed it tightly. When I turned around his eyes were wide. I returned to the bed, settling back into a comfortable position against the wall.

"So, I suppose you aren't going to make this easy?" Errol asked, shifting into the spot next to me.

"Why don't you just ask me questions and I'll answer them."

"What are you?" I turned my head to look at him and smiled.

"I think you should guess. Trust me, it'll be more satisfying for you in the long run. It will be like a puzzle."

"Are you human?" he asked.

"No," I said. Errol didn't react to my, by most standards, horrifying statement.

"Have you ever been human?" I nodded.

"It shouldn't be too hard. I've given you far more clues than has been safe," I said, leaning my head against the wall.

"Sorry, if my mind is generally set to assume that most people around me are of the human persuasion."

"I'll give you one more hint."

I reached over and picked up his hand. I rolled up the cuff of my left sleeve, and pressed his thumb against the spot where my pulse should have been. He shook his head slowly, looking confused.

"I don't understand."

_What's he showing me?_ I sighed and let go of his hand. Reaching up, I undid the first few buttons of my shirt.

"What are you-" I pressed his palm against the place where my heart should have been. Errol stared at my chest for a moment, before moving his hand around, searching for the lub-dub of life.

"You're…you're dead."

I nodded and gently pulled his hand away. The spot where his hand had been left a small circle of warmth on my chest. I redid the buttons of my shirt before looking back up at him.

"I'm a vampire, Errol."

He looked at me, sweeping his eyes down my whole body as if he expected me to be wearing a cloak or something. Errol's thought were moving fast.

"I suppose it is worthless for me to call bullshit. You've already proved you're quite clearly not living," he suddenly realized something I hoped he wouldn't, "So yesterday…when you were kissing me, you were going to kill me."

"It is very difficult to explain. I…was doing a favor for my…aunt?...I don't know what she is. But I behaved badly. Very badly. I shouldn't have done what I did yesterday. I should have known I wouldn't be able to handle how close you were. I'm sorry."

"All of the stuff you did was because you wanted to drink my blood."

"No." I said firmly. He seemed to take some pleasure in this statement.

"Were you lying about the stuff with your father?" Errol asked. He turned to me, his face serious.

"No. That all happened. Just longer ago than you think."

"When?"

"When I was a human," he paused, thinking.

"How old are you, Alexander?" I looked at him pleadingly.

"I am much older than you Errol. I'll tell you, just not now."

Errol was quiet for a long moment. He was thinking of everything I was telling him. I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my face.

_He looks so sad._

Errol reached out and took one of my hands between both of his.

"Is that why you're so cold?"

I looked up at him and nodded.

"Um," he stuttered over his words before saying, "Is it okay for me to do this. Does it make it harder for you to have control?"

I shook my head. "No, I normally have resistance to blood far beyond most vampires or my coven," I paused considering what I was about to say, "I like that very much. It makes me feel warm."

"What else is different about you than humans?" Errol asked, lightening the topic.

"Well, I'm very strong, as you've already seen. I'm fast, and I suppose you could say I'm invincible. Nothing short of another vampire can hurt me."

"Damn. You mean I can't use my garlic and wooden stake to defend myself? But what will I do when you turn on me? What about the sun?"

"Nah. That's a myth. I'm not burned by the sun. Instead the stupidest thing possible happens."

"What?" he asked curious.

I put on a lisp as I said, "I thparkle."

He stared at me for a moment before laughing. After a moment he recovered his breath.

"What about sleeping in coffins?"

"No. I don't sleep," I said.

"That must get incredibly boring."

"Believe me. It does. Quickly."

"You mentioned an aunt earlier?" Errol asked, gently rubbing my hand between his.

"Yes. I don't know if that's actually what you would call her. She's older than me, and she's the adopted sister of what I suppose are my adopted parents."

"That's confusing. How many people are in your…what did you call it…coven?"

"Including me? Nine. There's my "parents" Edward and Bella, Rosalie and Emmett, and Alice and Jasper. Esme and Carlisle are what one would call the parental units."

"How old are all of them?" _Maybe that will give me some clue to how old he is._

I chuckled softly before responding, "You won't be able to judge my age based on theirs. Well, Carlisle is the oldest and he started our family. He's four hundred and eighteen. Edward is one hundred and fifty seven. I don't know Esme's exact age. She's probably around Edward's age. Rosalie is one hundred and forty three. She doesn't particularly like me. After yesterday, she very much wanted Carlisle to force me out of the coven."

"Why?" I could hear in his mind that he thought Rosalie had a problem with gay people.

"That's not why," I interrupted his confused objection to my knowing what he was thinking, "Strictly speaking, vampires are not allowed to make their presence known to humans."

"Oh. How did you know I was thinking that?"

"Were you?" I feigned ignorance. "But as I was saying. Emmett is the same age as Rosalie. Jasper was a confederate soldier in the civil war and was changed in 1861, making him almost two hundred. Alice is one hundred and fifty seven. The youngest is Bella. She's Edward's mate. He changed her fifty years ago after they fell in love. I suppose that would make her sixty nine."

"Wow. And I suppose you still aren't going to tell me how old you are?"

"I suppose I've already made it rather clear the range of how old I am. I'm eighty seven," I carefully took in his reaction.

"So you could be my grandfather," he said, smiling.

"Is that the mindset you desire to have going into this?"

"No, I suppose not," Errol laughed lightly, "So are all vampires the same? Is there anything you can do that no one else can?"

"Well, a lot of vampires have special abilities. Ones that they may have carried over from their human life. For instance, Alice has visions of the futures. Jasper is an empath. He can feel and control your feelings and emotions. Edward can read minds."

"He can read people's thoughts? That would be so weird to be around. Knowing that you have to be careful what you think whenever you're around them."

I paused, perhaps longer than I should have, "Yeah."

"What can you do?"

"Well, like I said most of the time I have very good control. I suppose you caught me in a moment of weakness yesterday. I can go longer than any vampire I know of without feeding."

_Feeding. I guess I'll get used to that. I mean, I guess it's just like me talking about eating meat around a vegetarian. _

"I only feed from animals now. That is one of the requirements to be in my family. Humans are friends, not food," I smiled at him.

He laughed, but his smile began to fade. "Now? So you've drank from humans before?"

I cast my eyes down guilty. I nodded. "I didn't know there was another option."

"It's okay. I'd rather you were honest. I wanted to know what you are, and I just have to get used to it."

I sighed. I felt guilty not telling him that I could hear all of his thoughts. But I didn't want him to think of me like that. Like he had to be careful what he thought. I looked back up at him. Errol was carefully examining my hand, running his warm fingers over my cold skin.

"So, what now? Are you going to get in trouble for telling me all this?" his face was concerned.

I shook my head slowly. "Hopefully not. I asked Edward before I came here. And I wasn't going to tell the rest of the family. It's too dangerous for you. Alice will be able to see this in her vision, but she owes me."

I ducked my head quickly and pressed a kiss against his throat. I felt a shiver run through him.

"As far as the first one. Now, you should go to sleep."

"Are you leaving?" I shook my head, and put my free arm around his shoulders. Errol snuggled up against me, and soon was asleep, dreaming.


	20. you're going to want to read this

**A/N So this isn't a new chapter, but it is letting you know that you can go to my profile, scroll all the way to the bottom (I know it's long), and you will see that I have posted a story ****The Clash: One-shot****. Well, click on this link, and you will see that I have written a twenty-seven page one-shot telling the story of Alexander and his mysterious first love Anthony. At his point I don't think it is going to be crucial to the story line of The Clash, but if I change my mind I will say so in an author's note, and you can read it. Warning: Slash. But quite frankly, if you read this story, you'll probably be fine with the one-shot. I hope everyone likes it and they review!**


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N Here you go. This is the fancy "gramatically correct" version. Several weeks overdue, but it's here, partially due to the endless prodding of runswithvamp. So thank her, and thank me by reviewing!**

Errol's POV

Occasionally I would wake up during the night, uncertain what I was leaning up against. And every time I was pleasantly surprised that it was Alexander and not, say, a statue. Because that was what it felt like. When my alarm rang at six-thirty, I found myself lying down in my bed, alone. I sat up quickly, looking around. He was gone. Had he even been here to start with? God, was I going loopy?

I stood up, searching for some kind of sign that he had come, and had told me he was a vampire.

Maybe I am crazy.

After several minutes of looking, I found nothing. Apparently vampires are not courteous enough to leave notes. I only realized now how non-ass chillingly cold the room was. This house didn't have a heating system. And my window was brok-

I gave myself whiplash turning my head around to look at the window. Fully shut. Alexander had been here. I felt a little thrill at that thought, and I turned to look for clothes. It had set me behind fifteen minutes, and I had to hurry. Dressing quickly in several layers, I examined myself in the mirror. The cut on my forehead was nearly healed, and the bruise on my neck was covered by clothing, and was already fading.

The walk to school felt longer than it usually did, but I got there eventually. I quickly found Alexander and Clara near the edge of the lot, and I walked over to them. Clara was perched on his car trying not to slide off.

"What are you doing?" I asked by way of greeting. Ander shifted a little bit away from me. No.

"Well hello to you too," Clara responded snootily, "And if you must know the car is still warm, and it's very cold, in case you missed it."

I didn't particularly care anymore why Clara was making a fool of herself trying to be warm. I was more concerned with the fact that Alexander had shifted so there was nearly five feet of space between us.

Clara chattered at Alexander about math and German until the bell rang and we all went our separate ways. I tried to pay attention in class, but failed miserably. Instead I spent most of my time trying to convince myself that Alexander hadn't moved because of me. It was probably something else.

But after last night, it's like I'm seeing the world completely differently. All of those rumors we heard about the weird Cullens, and none of them even came close to how truly…abnormal they were. And now I can't stop thinking, who else is a vampire? Would he have told me if there were other vampires in town? Or hell, even if there were other vampires in the school?

That didn't make sense thought. Forks residence didn't exactly have a reputation of being tan, but none of them are as pale as Ander. Besides, they all look…well, human. From what I've heard, every one of the Cullens that has been spotted looks like they fell off a runway or leapt out of the pages of a magazine. Alexander's the only vampire I've seen up close (pff… only. How many vampires have _you_ seen up close?), and he looks kind of like some dark angel. He's not exactly the definition of "dreamy", but he has that kind of sad beauty, like in a painting.

All of this successfully distracted me until lunch. I sat down as usual, pulling out a book to read while I picked at whatever was in the bag I'd brought. Just moments after I sat down, I felt the slightest movement as Alexander sat in the seat opposite me, but I looked up when I realized he was alone.

"Where's Clara?" I asked, trying to sound disinterested.

"Getting lunch. I can afford to skip lunch every now and then without suspicion."

"Oh," I said, returning to what I was reading.

"God, I know you're not really reading. Even a human knows you can't read without moving your eyes."

I glared up at him. He sighed exasperated.

"I'm sorry about this morning. Probably the only person paying attention was Clara, and she didn't notice, but someone might decide to start telling tales about how they saw you standing a little too close to the new kid," he said, quietly.

"Oh. That…that makes sense," I said, feeling stupid.

"It's okay, no one saw earlier. But I figure you probably don't want anything happening like last time?"

"Yeah, that would be ideal."

Our conversation ended as Clara walked over, and sat down in her usual spot next to Ander.

"So…" she said after several moments of silence, where I stared blankly at the tray in front of her, and Alexander at some spot on the wall behind me, "Did you guys do anything interesting last night?"

Oh God. How could she possibly know?

"No. I had to watch a movie with my family," Alexander lied smoothly.

"Good movie?" I asked, trying very hard to act as convincingly as he did.

"Of course not. But it's very hard to enjoy a movie with my family. Nine people is rather a large crowd for a family movie night."

"Nine people?" Clara said surprised, "Did you have people over or something?"

She seemed doubtful of that possibility, but also intrigued at the very idea of it being true.

"No," Ander said, nonchalantly rubbing at his eye. This is so not fair. He is way too good at this. Hopefully she won't ask me, and I won't have to come up with anything.

"So you have," she paused doing the math, "six brothers and sisters? By adoption?"

"It's very complicated Clara. What did you do last night?" he asked, quickly averting her from the forbidden topic.

"My brother got his head stuck between the railings on the stairs. My mom tried to get it out doing that butter thing that always works on TV, but my dad is too cheap to turn the heat on so all of the butter just stayed in chunks all over his face. It took them like three hours to figure out they could just remove one of the bars and take his head out," Clara said, in one breath.

We stared at her for a moment.

"Well, jeez. I thought it was funny," she said, returning to eating the spaghetti in front of her.

I chuckled slightly to appease her.

"Very convincing, Errol. You could at least make an effort, Alexander," she said, turning to look up at him.

He shrugged, "I'm a terrible liar."

Alexander POV

Occasionally Errol would start awake as he leaned against me, but would quickly go back to sleep. I looked at the clock. Almost four in the morning. I should leave so he can get a few hours of real sleep. I carefully shifted him so he was lying down on the bed, covered by the meager supply of blankets. Carefully shutting it completely behind me, I exited the window, and ran deep into the trees, taking a shortcut to get to my house.

I stopped abruptly. I was supposed to have been hunting. Veering off track, it wasn't hard to find a few deer. Wholly unsatisfied, but with eyes of an acceptable color, I returned to the house. I entered straight into my room, avoiding contact with all other inhabitants of the house. It was six-thirty. I decided to spend a little time thinking, so I stretched out on my bed, eyes closed.

At seven, I looked up to see Alice standing in the door with that terrible "I know what you did" look.

"You ought to get dressed. School soon," she smirked before she walked down the hall to her room. At least I knew she wasn't going to tell.

I rolled off the bed, removing my shirt. After replacing that with one similarly black and changing my pants, I slid into a black coat and scarf. I glanced in the mirror briefly to tie back my hair and check my eyes. Gold, with black creeping out around the pupils.

_The end of the day_

It had snowed during the last hours of school, and Clara was waiting by the car when I walked out. Errol was following quickly behind me and soon we were in the car. I turned it on, and Desolation Row came out of the speakers, right at the harmonica part.

"Wow. This is something my grandpa listened to," Clara laughed in the back seat.

"Actually this was probably closer to your great-grandpa, or maybe your grandpa's older cousin," I said, turning to smile at her briefly. Errol laughed, and we shared a knowing look before I focused on the road speeding toward Clara's house.

"I'm so happy it's the weekend!" Clara said from the back seat, leaning forward to but her elbow on the partition between Errol and me, "Do we have homework?"

This was the third time she'd asked me that today. The first time it was a legitimate quandary, the second I believe there was a lull in conversation, and now, it seemed, she just wanted something to say to me.

I shook my head, smiling sardonically, "Nope. We haven't been assigned homework since you asked me after lunch."

I saw her go red out of the corner of my eyes. Ugh, I'm terrible.

"Although I do think I heard Ms. Ramone mention something about an extra credit assignment for Monday."

"Oh, yeah! I should do that. With my grade in that class I need all the extra credit I can get. I hope she doesn't call my mom about that last test…"

"You better pray she doesn't call your kindergarten teacher to ask if that was where you started to go bad," Errol joked.

"That was uncalled for Errol," Clara sniffed, leaning back.

"You were very dramatic about that test considering it was only a C," I said.

"Mm-hmm. Always take his side," she collected her bag as I stopped in front of her house, "I'll see you guys on Monday. Have a good weekend," Clara said, back to her perky self.

I pulled away, as she walked up her drive.

"I love Bob Dylan, by the way. Mr. Blott has the original vinyl in the record store."

"Yeah, I own it, as well as the original vinyl of My Chemical Romance's cover."

"Yeah, yeah I get it. You've been around longer and own more old person music."

"You're still working at the record shop?" I asked. I'd driven him home from school with Clara for the past two weeks, so it didn't make sense that he still had the job.

"No. Blott couldn't afford to keep two employees, and Jared was older."

"That blows," I said, although he clearly wasn't particularly beat up about it.

"Not really. There weren't very many customers and I could never find a way to get there. I do miss all the music I got to steal though."

I laughed slightly, "Who knows? If you really gain my trust, maybe I'll let you borrow some of my CDs," I paused as he considered that, nodding slightly, "Never mind. I don't lend my CDs to anyone. I thought if I just said it out loud I might be okay with it, but I'm just not. Sorry."

We lulled into silence after his laughter died out.

"So why is it you're so into music?" he asked.

"It was just what I had for entertainment when I was young in the eighties. We didn't have a TV until after my mom died, and then it was just for my father. Movies were expensive. My mom loved music, and she snuck me out to concerts so that's just what I did."

He nodded, slowly.

"You?" I asked.

"Mostly just from working at the record store. But since I lost that job, I've already used all of my references to older music, so I'm out."

"Well maybe I will bring over CDs and watch carefully as you listen to them," I said. I'd enjoyed having someone who was semi- well versed in music.

_Shit. Did I just like throw away the one thing we had in common? _

Wow, was I like this with Anthony? Analyzing everything, questioning whether everything meant he didn't like me? I don't think so, but I may have just blocked it out.

We talked for a little while after that, but I decided I should probably get back home before they decided I had massacred the whole town.

"Are you... are you coming back tonight?" Errol asked hopefully before exiting the car.

"Yes, but you shouldn't wait up. You didn't get much sleep last night, so I'll wait for a while to come."

He nodded, smiling, "See you."

Errol shut the door and turned walking up his front porch, struggling a moment to reach a key up in the eaves. I chuckled at his attempts to jump for it as I drove away. Humans were an endless source of entertainment.

(line)

Errol's POV

I finished my homework a few hours after Alexander dropped me off. My dad got home around five, and he was in a bad mood. He walked into the kitchen, and dropped his bag on the floor.

"Hello," I said flatly.

"Shut up. I had a shitty day."

"I'm sorry."

He cuffed me over the head as he walked to the fridge.

"Despite the numerous problems you have caused, this was actually not one of them."

I decided to remain quiet, and finish the problem I was on. After a few moments he slammed the fridge door, grumbling about how there was never anything fucking edible in there.

"You can apologize for that one. It's your job to keep food around here," he said, now digging through the cupboards.

"You didn't give me money for groceries. I can't get groceries without money, short of committing a felony," I replied, instantly regretting it.

"You think you're clever? Think you're a fucking smart ass?" I didn't reply.

"Not so clever now? Got nothing to say?"

"Sorry." That was always the easiest. Sorry.

"What are you sorry for? Sorry for not having anything to say? Sorry for not getting food? Or, have you finally grown a brain and are sorry for destroying life?"

I didn't reply. Because I wasn't sorry for any of it. It was him that should be sorry. A blunt force on my left shoved me out of the chair.

"Don't ignore me," he kicked me in the side and curled into a ball around it, "Be a man. Face me like a real fucking man!"

I struggled to get up, but before I succeeded he shoved his foot up into my stomach and I was back on the ground.

"I forgot. You're not a fucking man. You're a fucking pansy. A fucking faggot," he pulled me up by the sleeve of my shirt and sent me into the wall with a punch to my chest. Before I could slide down the wall, he had a fistful of my shirt in his hand, digging his nails into the skin of my collar bones. The back of his hand hit my cheek and then came back as a fist, splitting my lip.

I let my head lull down, and my eyes close. I used to look him straight in the eye. You always hear about how the tough guys can't look you in the eye because they are really just weak. My dad looked me straight in the eye, and all I saw there was disgust.

"God, you always just fucking give up. Take a swing at me, see where it gets you," I stayed motionless.

"Weak," he grunted as he tossed me out of the kitchen doorway. I scraped against the wall, cracking my head painfully on the corner. I landed on all fours on the hard floor of the living room. Once again I struggled to get up, but this time he stepped down hard on my back, pushing me back down. He moved his foot from my back to kick my side, flipping me over. I wanted to close my eyes, but I seemed to not be able to. A kick to my thigh sent my leg into an unnatural position. He leaned down, pulling my torso up slightly and sent a punch to my stomach and then an uppercut to my chin. The last blow knocked my head back against the linoleum and everything went black.

Dimly, I still felt the pain. I couldn't tell it they were the same injuries throbbing or if he was still going. Eventually I seemed to just lull into a throbbing numbness. I blearily opened my eyes what must have been a few hours later. The television was on, and he was across the room on the couch facing away from me.

After a few long deep breaths, I mentally prepared myself to move. I unsteadily got to my feet but after the first few steps discovered that wouldn't work. I was already at the base of the stairs, so I managed to half crawl, half pull myself to the top and then get to my room. Once there I collapsed to the floor, barely able to kick the door shut behind me before I vomited on the linoleum of my room.

I passed out again after that, my head turned looking at the clock. As I lost consciousness I took note of the time. 9:30. Alexander would come. It could be hours, but he would be here. I hope.

**A/N Ahh! That was intense. I will post sooner than last time, because now I'm really excited to write the next chapter! Can't wait to see what I pull out of my dusty brain filing cabinet next time. Please review!!!**


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N It's kind of short. But I'm on vacation the next week so I figured it was better than nothing. I'll be writing there because there is nothing to do, so expect a longer chapter on next Monday or Tuesday (13/14 of April). Review please!**

Alexander's POV

12:37. That seemed a suitable time to go to Errol. He's probably had a few hours of sleep. I leapt easily out of the window shouting to Edward in my mind that I was going out. Easily avoiding trees and other objects, I soon was vaulting into his window, landing softly. Immediately the smell of fresh blood and bile assaulted my senses. Looking down I saw Errol lying flat on his stomach, a pool of what appeared to be his own vomit an inch from his face.

"Errol!" I was at his side in an instant, kneeling down to roll him off his stomach and into my lap. His eyes were closed, like he was sleeping. A fantastic bruise was blooming on both sides of his face and his lip was split, clearly the source of the trickle of dried blood on his chin. I could smell fresh blood, and noticed the stain over his stomach. I held my breath as I carefully edged the hem of his shirt up. There was a large purpling-brown bruise over his lower abdomen and in the center the skin it had broken in a ragged pattern.

I couldn't help this. I had no idea what to do. Looking around quickly, I found a bath towel and wrapped it around his stomach to try to stop some of the bleeding. I gently picked him up and laid him on the bed. It was 12:52 now. Carlisle was home when I left.

"Ander…?" the sound of his voice gave me a little hope, and I dropped to my knees in front of him.

"Your father?" I asked, anger trembling in my voice. He hesitated slightly, before nodding weakly, "I don't have time now to deal with that. I'm going to take you to someone who will help you, okay?"

"I can't go to the hospit-"

"Not the hospital. I'm going to carry you, alright?"

Errol nodded again, before his eyes closed again, and he slipped off.

Quickly I made up my mind, and carefully wrapped him in a blanket against the cold outside. Edging out the window, I dropped the ground softly and began to run home.

Alice's POV

I stopped running, and Jasper nearly ran into me.

_Alexander entering a room and seeing someone on the floor. Hurt. He talks to him quickly and then picks him up and jumps out of the window. Going to Carlisle._

"Alice? Are you alright? What did you see?" Jasper asked, gently grasping my arm. Rosalie and Emmett had stopped in front of us turning to see what had happened. Rosalie would hate this.

"Um, nothing. It wasn't important."

"What was it?" Rosalie asked, delicately arching one golden eyebrow.

"Inconsequential. I believe Bella merely convinced Edward to watch a movie and not to reorganize his CDs while she watched," I smirked slightly and nodded my head ahead of us and we began to run again, soon breaking away from each other to search for our own catch.

Rosalie and Emmett would be furious. I had to try to keep them away from the house.

Alexander's POV

I silently entered the house, and realized Edward and Bella were sitting on the couch looking intently at the door waiting for me to come in. Bella's eyes darkened slightly and Edward tightened his grip on her.

"Oh my," Bella gasped.

"Carlisle's upstairs?" I asked quickly. Edward nodded and I hurried up the stairs, knocking on Carlisle's door.

He opened it and quickly led me inside.

"You can put him on the coffee table," he said, clearing off the few books on it. I gently placed Errol on the wood, making sure he was on the blanket.

"What happened?" Carlisle asked, as he checked his pulse.

"Kids from school who didn't like him."

He gave me a look that said quite plainly he didn't believe me. Instead of saying something, he handed me a cloth and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Can you clean his stomach? He doesn't appear to like it when I touch him," he smirked slightly, as Errol yet again tried to flinch away from his hand. I gently removed the towel, and waited for any reaction Carlisle would give.

"It certainly doesn't look good and I can't tell if there's internal bleeding. He might benefit from an x-ray, but that doesn't appear to be an option. For now, you should clean it, and then bandage up to his ribs. It seems they broke a rib on his right side."

He grimaced slightly, as he ran his eyes over Errol's face again.

"It was best for you to bring him to me. He probably is in quite a bit of pain, so I can give him some pills for that," I nodded slowly. Carlisle gave me a weak smile before returning to his desk. I finished cleaning the wound, and gently lifted Errol's torso, wrapping my arm around his waist to keep him perched up. I gently wind the bandage around him up over his ribs to keep the broken one in place.

As I carry him out, I quietly thank Carlisle and he hands me a bottle of pain-killers and smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes.

I briefly considered taking Errol back to his house, but decided to just let him sleep in my room. As I climbed the stairs, he woke up, looking around.

"Where are we?"

"My house," I answered as I kicked my bedroom door shut, "And now you're in my room."

I turned on a light, and sat up against the headboard, holding Errol across my lap. His head lolled against my chest, eyes closed. He fell asleep for a fitful hour, before slowly opening his eyes.

"It hurts so much, Ander," he groaned.

"I know it does," I whispered to him, stroking his hair softly. I felt him shiver slightly and as I pulled him closer.

"Are you cold?" I asked. He shook his head, nuzzling closer to me. I pressed my lips against his hair, before laying my cheek on top of his head. Errol fell asleep a few moments later and slept until the early morning.

* * *

Errol's POV

"Errol?"

I moaned as I cracked my eyes open painfully.

"School today?"

"Yeah, I have to," I didn't move other than to press myself closer to him, clinging to Ander's shirt. My eyes opened again as I felt his cool lips on my forehead, and then my cheek. Ander moved me off of him so I was sitting on the edge of his bed, next to him.

He reached over to his nightstand and picked up a bottle and handed it to me.

"Painkillers. The bathroom is three doors down the hall. I'll change and take you back to your house."

"Thank you," I stood up wobbling slightly. Ander steadied me, and I slowly walked out of the room and down the hall. This house was enormous. I opened the third door carefully in case it wasn't the right one.

I closed the door behind me, and took a deep breath before looking in the mirror. I looked like shit. There were bruises on either side of my face, and my lip was split with a reddish brown line of blood down my chin. I noticed the blood stain on my shirt and lifted it up, I discovered that all of my stomach and part of my chest was bandaged. I don't remember that.

I pulled my shirt back down, and unscrewed the cap of the pill bottle and dumped a few into my hand. There was a cup sitting on the counter, that had probably never been used, which I filled it with water to take the pills. I splashed water on face, trying to get rid of the blood. The cold felt good on my bruised cheeks.

Walking back down the hall I listened carefully for other noises in the house. I had turned around so I was facing back toward the bathroom. I turned around and jumped, making an embarrassing squeaking noise. Standing in front of me was a woman with long brown hair, and large, semi-porn lips. Her face had the same pale tone and perfectly proportioned features as Ander.

"Hello. I'm Bella."

"Um, Errol," I said, my voice rasping. A warm smile replaced her concerned expression, before she extended her hand to me. I shook it cautiously, unsurprised at the icy, hardness of her skin.

"It's nice to meet you," she said simply before turning and going into the door beside Ander's.

"I see you met Bella."

"God! You people have got to stop doing that!" I said facing Ander, who had appeared in different clothes with his bag.

He looked at me concerned for a minute, "Do you need help walking?"

I flushed a little and shook my head.

He smirked at me leading me down the stairs as he pulled his hair back into a ponytail.

The living room was enormous and it took me a moment to notice the two people sitting on the couch. One of them was a small, child-looking person with dark hair, the other a tall blond man that appeared to be in pain. A moment later, the child, who on further examination proved to be a girl about my age, was standing right in front of me.

"Hi, Errol. I'm Alice," she said, not moving from her stance less than a foot away from me. I'm not the tallest guy in the world, but this person was twelve different kinds of short.

"Hello," I said shuffling back slightly.

"Personal space, much, Alice?" Ander said sarcastically. She locked eyes with him, and a second later raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Shut up," he growled, only half joking.

"I wasn't talking," Alice replied in a childish voice before turning to skip away. Who the hell skips? Isn't she supposed to be like a hundred and fifty years old?

Ander smirked as he led me out the front door and headed toward his car.

"Aren't you going to lock the door?" I asked.

"Um, no. You don't usually do that when you're indestructible," he chuckled. He waited until I had comprehended that and began walking to the car, before turning to unlock it.

I got into the passenger seat slowly, wincing as the skin of my stomach flexed. Ander started driving, and was at least a mile from his house before he spoke.

"You want to go to school today?"

"No. But I don't want to risk them calling my dad."

"How do you intend to explain your face?" he asked coldly.

"I…I guess…I don't know," I said quietly. He sighed quietly.

"Do you have any makeup?" Ander asked after a moments silence. I nodded.

"Some. I got it the first time my face got beat up. But no one ever really noticed so I've never used it."

He nodded. With his ridiculous driving, we soon were pulling into my empty driveway. It took me a second to comprehend that Ander was now standing beside my open door. I jumped a little in shock before slowly, painfully exiting the car and slamming the door. I walked slowly to the house, feeling Ander behind me ready to catch me if necessary. That would only be a little embarrassing.

I prepared to jump up for the key, but Ander held it out to me in his open hand.

"How did you know that was up their?"

"I drive you home every day," he replied flatly. Oh. We walked in and I turned toward the stairs.

"It feels very odd to come in through the front door."

"And I didn't even have to invite you in," I chuckled at me own joke, as I climbed the stairs.

Opening the door to my room, a terrible smell assaulted my nose.

"God, what is that?"

"_That_ is the smell of your own vomit."

Alexander's POV

After saying that I promptly stopped breathing. Errol, who didn't have this luxury, grabbed a towel and wiped it up before walking out to a closet sized room and tossing it into a washing machine. He sat down onto his bed, and I sat next to him, scooting back against the wall. Being very gentle, I pulled him back so he could lean on me.

"Thank you," Errol mumbled incoherently.

"I really shouldn't let you go to school."

"Aww, come on, mom," he said, clearly too tired to muster up a sarcastic tone of voice.

"Unless you want to walk, you might have trouble getting there."

"What do you mean?" Errol asked, his thoughts stunned that I was so cruel.

"The clouds are going to roll out around noon, so I can't be outside. Would you care to explain this to Clara by yourself?" I asked, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.

"Not particularly. But what about the school? They'll call my dad to know where I was."

"I'll take care of that. Change your clothes. Not to be rude, but you reek," making sure he was upright, I stood up and left his room. I don't know if all vampires can imitate voices or not, but it certainly is useful. I didn't know the exact sound of Errol's father, but I had heard the gist of it from Errol's thoughts. Waiting to reenter until after he had changed, when I came back Errol had collapsed from a sitting position into a half-horizontal one.

"Tired?"

"Not really. Just painful to sit."

"Pain killers didn't work?"

"Not yet."

I sat on the bed against the wall, and carefully moved his legs so they were on the bed. In a few minutes he was sleeping, and mumbling incoherently.

It was going to be raining straight through tomorrow morning.


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N New chapter! How amazing am I? I said I would post one on Monday or Tuesday and it's only been three more days! Usually I am terrible and too busy (who am I kidding, I have no life!) to update anywhere near where I say I will. Praise me!!!**

Alexander

It was nearly evening, and I was prepared to stay with Errol all night. Unfortunately, some other force (Alice) had other plans.

_Alexander!!! Can you hear me? You better get back to the house. Rosalie and Emmett are going to be home in ten minutes, and I don't think either of us want to face her wrath if she finds out you told Errol about us._

Alice seemed to have been doing this for a while, trying to get close enough to Errol's house so I could hear her thoughts. She had a vision of me heading back to the house, and turned around to do the same.

"Shit," I mumble under my breath. I don't know what it is, but for some reason the wrath of Rosalie is greatly feared in the Cullen house. However, my instinct to rebel and test that wrath wasn't as great as my desire to still have all of my appendages tomorrow.

Errol

Dimly through a blur of sleep I felt Ander's cool lips on my forehead. I opened my eyes just in time to see his pale fingertips release from the window sill.

"Thank you," I said quietly, knowing he could hear me. I weighed in my head the option to either continue sleeping and risk my father coming up here, or going downstairs and delivering myself to him on a silver platter. I fell asleep while still weighing the pros and cons.

* * *

When I woke up around four o'clock in the morning, I was happy to find myself a little sore, but in no worse condition than yesterday. Excellent. I did, however, desperately need to shower, as I was covered in my own vomit and blood. My father wouldn't be gone for another hour and a half, so I stayed in the warmth of my bed.

At around five, I turned over and, feeling the searing pain on my stomach, it occurred to me to check the bandages there. I threw back the covers and lifted my shirt. I could just barely see a little blood beginning to seep through. Unless I wanted to wrap my whole torso in plastic wrap to keep from getting wet, I would have to redo that.

Examining them closer, I noticed how even and smooth the winding was. I faintly recalled Ander saying his…father? grandfather?... someone, was a doctor. It occurred to me to be self-conscious about the fact that there wasn't much of me that wasn't scarred or bruised.

As I ran my hand up my side and over my ribs, I almost screamed as pain shot through me. I bit my lip quickly to keep from making any noise. I hope I didn't break a rib. Broken ribs are a bitch.

* * *

Immediately after my father left I went to take a shower. I sucked a breath in upon unwrapping the bandages and seeing the wound in the middle of my abdomen. I nearly threw up all over myself again. The skin was broken raggedly in the center of my stomach and extended out from there about three inches on either side. The flesh around the cut was purple and green with concerning tinges of black toward the center **(A/N I'm just naming colors that sound nasty. If this particular coloring means he's going to die of something terrible very soon…trust me. He won't.)**.

If that wasn't bad enough, judging by the coloring over my ribs, at least one was broken. Fucking awesome. I seriously wished I had brought those pills with me.

Clearly some force is watching over me. When I opened my medicine cabinet to see if I had anything to redo the bindings where I found not only bandages I'm pretty sure weren't there before, but the painkillers too.

I smiled to myself before downing a handful of them.

* * *

My bandages poorly redone and a towel around my waist I went back into my room. Digging through my closet, I nearly had a heart attack when I heard a wolf whistle behind me. I whirled around, holding my towel tighter. Ander was crouched in the window, his toes balancing on the sill.

"Don't go to school today, okay?" he said, smirking at me. I swallowed hard and nodded, about to speak when he interrupted me.

"I called the school. I'll probably come tonight."

Before I could say anything else, he sprung off the sill, flipping backwards out of sight.

"Show off," I muttered.

Alexander

Leaping from the window, and tucking backwards to land lightly on the ground. Although I would have preferred to run and enjoy the cool air, I went back to where I had parked my car down the road. I sat in my car for a while, making the executive decision to get to school a little bit late.

Clara

Neither Alexander nor Errol had been at school yesterday so I sat with my other friends at lunch. Even though I had to walk home in rain, it was still nice to be around girls, I guess. It was really weird though not having Alexander to help me in math and German, or to block the rain.

It was weird without Errol, too. He was really nice to me, save the sarcastic comment that I, yes, was probably asking for.

Even though I was one of the people who didn't look him in the eye after we all heard about him kissing Ryan Hendon, he still gave me first dibs on the food Alexander didn't eat. And to be fair, I was probably one of the better ones. I didn't talk about him behind his back and usually I left when people started talking about him. I guess I never really stood up for him either, but I didn't know him! He was a sophomore who I hadn't even had a PE class with. Now, I would defend him without a second thought. I think.

There were two things that really got me after Mrs. Hendon had no qualms about airing dirty laundry her son was great big grape juice stain on, if she didn't tell everyone about it first.

Thing number one: I never stood up for Errol, and now I'm sorry about that because I know him and he's great. But I mean, I never thought there was anything wrong with what he did. And I'm 4000% positive I wasn't the only one. Seems like everyone was very loud about opposing the proposition to ban gay adoption when we were in seventh grade, but when the boy you've know since kindergarten pecks a guy on the lips we keep all that civil rights stuff bottled up? What the hell?

Thing number two: I heard through a secret source (Nancy Potkins) that at a party three days before Ryan moved away, he got seriously hammered. Nancy had always had a huge crush on him (she was particularly vocal about Errol's, as she called, "problem") and was taking advantage of her last shot to mack on Ryan. Ten shots and four beers later, he told little Miss Potkins that the whole thing had gotten blown out of proportion and his parents shouldn't be moving them. Then it got interesting because he told her that secretly he _liked_it when Errol layed one on him. So why couldn't Ryan grow a pair and defend his friend? Who knows.

The point of this whole inner monologue is, without Errol and Alexander, school just isn't as fun. But I got by. I mean, I'm weird, but I have friends. Unless you stop counting friends because you only like them like one quarter to one half of the time. But if you got rid of all of those, no one would have friends.

The person I usually like the most is Whitney Stewart, who is dumber than my left boob. Sure you can't exactly count on her for a conversation on astrophysics (hell, don't look at me for that either), but she did give me a killer French manicure and lend me those sparkly bracelets my mom wouldn't let me buy for my date with Chris Ashley.

Then there's Annie who is a little smarter and meaner than Whitney. Nancy Potkins (you will recognize her from earlier), who I have one of those awkward relationships where she likes me, but I don't like her so I feel guilty. Peggy Kim is pretty nice and super smart. My only beef with her is if she ever tries to give me that spicy cabbage again. Finally there was Myrna. Myrna was mostly quiet and a dressed a lot like Alexander. I hadn't heard enough from her to form any opinion, but I think she's legit.

So once they finished half jokingly ragging on me for ditching them, they wasted no time in probing me for what I knew.

"You hang out with the new kid right?" Nancy asked, knowing the answer.

"Yeah. His name's Alexander," I said, spearing a meatball off my tray.

"You like him, right?" Nancy said. Damn. That obvious?

I just shrugged and continued to eat.

"You guys are always walking together, and he always walks real close to you," Whitney said, ever the romantic.

"I think Clara does the close walking," Annie said, "and usually it looks like you're using him like a shield or something."

Bitch.

"He's tall, and is convenient for rain blockage," I replied, glaring at her.

"God, you're so lucky. You aren't even dating him and he does that," Whitney said, sighing, "I've been dating Josh for like four months, and when a basketball came flying at him, he ducked and let it hit me!"

"You really need to let him go," Nancy said. Whitney nodded sadly.

"How tall is Alexander?" Myrna asked quietly.

I shrugged pretending not to know, "6'2" or 3". I don't know."

I saw a funny glint in Nancy's eye and dreaded what could be about to come out of her mouth.

"I heard from a guy who has PE with Alexander that he is like anorexic-ally skinny."

I would have told her about his stomach disease, but I knew she would tell everyone, and I didn't think he would like that. So I just shrugged. Again.

"I could tell you a few more things about other parts of him, too, if you want," Nancy said evilly. I shook my violently. I looked at the clock on the wall across the cafeteria. Fifteen minutes.

"Jesus, Nancy. You should be arrested for sexual harassment." Thank you, Peggy! Luckily that conversation strayed from me at that point.

* * *

Back to now. Now I'm standing shivering in the parking lot, in between Whitney and Annie. I was really hoping Alexander would come soon so I could sit in his warm car. The bell rang five minutes later, still with no sign of Alexander. I tried to ignore the little sinking in my heart, that wasn't just because I would have to sit with "the girls" again at lunch.

Alexander

I sat down in Algebra 3-4 and began doodling absently on my notebook. I peered up through my hair when Clara walked in, her brown eyes wide and lost, falling into her chair with a sigh. She pulled out her notebook without acknowledging me, and opened them to what must have been the lesson yesterday. They were messy, and scribbled out in most places. It appeared that about half way through she had given up and just written in big angry letters "I WISH ALEXANDER WERE HERE!", followed by one of those weird faces that is supposed to be mean you're laughing, or crying, or throwing up, or something.

"So you're improving in math, then?" I said, chuckling when she jumped, nearly throwing herself onto the desk to cover her notebook. Either I had gotten a lot better at sneaking up on people, or I had very jumpy friends.

"Alexander! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Language, Clara," Ms. Ramone joked, as she passed by her desk.

"It generally is smiled upon to come to school," I responded, still smirking.

"You weren't here this morning though, when I was stuck in the freezing parking lot. Thanks for that by the way," she said, attempting to glare at me.

"Any time."

"You know what-"

"Shhh, Clara. Learning time," I said, turning to the front.

* * *

After German, we went to lunch and I managed to escape buying anything by saying I was still nauseous from being sick. Walking to our usual table, I noticed a girl across the room wave at Clara, and her return it with a small smile. Another girl at the table looked on suspiciously, her thoughts tinged with bitterness.

_I bet Aaron was just yanking my chain about his-_

What. The. Fuck. I turned quickly to look at the girl, glaring at her. A mask of fear transformed her face. She should be afraid. What the hell did she care about my…various parts? Stupid teenagers.

"Friend of yours?" I asked, as I sat down across from her at the table.

"Yeah, I guess. They're kind of vapid."

_Kind of? Who am I kidding?_

"I had to find someone to sit with yesterday since you and Errol were both gone," she said, defensively. I nodded in understanding, "You knew he was gone?" she asked.

Shit.

"Um, yeah. He, err, called me. I think he might be back tomorrow, but maybe not."

"Is he really sick?" Clara asked, concerned.

"Not sick. You know his cat?" I made something up very quickly involving this terrible imaginary cat Errol apparently had, "Well, I guess he was sleeping on the stairs and Errol tripped over him and fell down the stairs."

"Oh no! Is he okay?" she asked, now very worried.

"Yeah, he's kind of beat up though," I said, nodding.

Excellent lie, me! I gave myself an imaginary high five.

"That's terrible."

"Yeah. He's really embarrassed. Feel stupid. You should maybe keep it quiet."

"That makes sense. When I ran into a door last year and got a black eye, I told everyone I fell when I was rock climbing," Clara said, blushing. I smiled at her before changing the subject.

* * *

After school, Clara and I were walking to my car, past some bulletin board that usually just had rain soaked flyers about jobs and pet sitters. But now it was covered in bright orange, pink, and green flyers for a Sadie Hawkins dance.

Clara stopped to look at the flyer and I waited, standing behind her, as she read it.

"How dumb," she said, although judging by her mind, Clara thought it was anything but. I just shrugged and made a noncommittal grunting noise. After Clara finished looking at the flyer, we continued to my car. I listened to Clara's chatter, making comments occasionally, but we arrived at her house.

"Do you think you're going to talk to Errol?" Clara asked, preparing to exit the car. I shrugged even though I knew I would.

"I don't know. It depends. Why?"

"If you do talk to him, tell him I hope he feels better," she said.

"Sure thing."

I smile at her as she shut her door and walked up to her house, eagerly awaited by her brother.

* * *

"Favorite movie?" Alice asked, flopping over on to her stomach on my bed.

"Umm," I paused as I finished the sentence I was writing for English, "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade."

"I like Clueless."

I feared the consequences that would ensue if I told her I hadn't seen that movie, and there were few things I wanted to do less than change that.

"Are you done with that yet?" she groaned."

"Nope. And that counts as a question."

Alice stuck her tongue out at me and began wandering around my room. She started to dig through my closet and I assumed I was in for another lecture on the importance of fashion. Alice stopped suddenly. I looked over at her, quizzically, before seeing what she had in her hand.

"Umm, should I ask or is there something you're not telling me?" she asked, motioning to Bailey's hippo, which had been buried in the darkest reaches of the closet.

"Long story. This is at least a day's worth of questions."

"Okay, it's worth it. Although I don't know how I'll handle it if you say you have a stuffed animal fetish."

"You know the foster home I was in before? There was a little girl there, Bailey. She was six when I left there, but like three when I got there. For some odd reason, she loved me. Everyone else was basically just frightened of me, but this little kid just idolized me."

"Awww. I would have loved to see that."

"You joke. Well when she got adopted and I decided to leave there and come here she gave it to me."

_Maybe you'll see her again, someday. _

I decided to say something to her and she had a vision of me saying it.

_Hopefully not. People usually do better once I'm out of their lives._

She looked at me sympathetically, but before she could say anything I turned back to my homework.

I finished my homework, and managed to spend time doing nothing before I left to go to Errol's house.

_I'm going out._ I thought to Edward.

_Be good._

No guarantees.

When I swooped in through Errol's window, carefully sliding it shut behind me, he was asleep. Deciding not to wake him, I lied down next to him and wrapped my arm around him. He curled closer to me.

"Hi," Errol mumbled.

"Hi," I replied, but he was already back to sleep.

**A/N It was a little longer than the last chapter. I was happier with this chapter than I've been with one for a while not to mention I've been trying to fit Clara in somewhere since I feel like I've been beating up on her (figuratively, of course. I don't abuse my characters...much). So personal victory. Victorious for anyone else? Want to let me know what you want to happen? Want to tell me how pathetic I am for whoring myself about like this? Review! **


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N I. Am. The. Worst. Author. Ever. I haven't updated in forever, and I apologize. But soon, oh so soon, I will be out of school and have nothing to do but write, because I have no life! So look forward to the days after next thursday. Until then, read this, and review!...Please?**

**Disclaimer: Hmmm... anyone else see the irony that the story is all about gay people, based in a world created by a mormon person? Huh. Well, anyhooo, none of it's mine...except for Alexander, and Errol, and Clara. And they are all I will ever need...that an reviews...and my new Green Day CD. But you know, I've got those and I'm set.**

Errol

After Ander arrived, I was lulled back to sleep, my cheek pressed to his cold chest. I awoke a few hours later. It was still very dark outside so it couldn't have been later than 3 o'clock. Even though he could probably tell I wasn't sleeping, I stayed silently lost in thought, Ander's hand moving slowly up and down my back. There was something that had been nagging at me for a while. After a few moments of thought, another few moments to figure out just how to phrase it, and then a final few moments to psyche myself up to speak, I opened my mouth.

"Why are you so…good at this?"

"Good at what?" he asked, clearly feigning ignorance.

"You know…_this._ Being with someone."

"I'm a vampire, not a hermit. I was socialized when I was a human."

"Haha. You would not believe that that never get's old," I said, "Would you mind being serious for once?"

"Actually, yes. I do mind."

"Just answer the questions."

"I'm still not clear what you're asking me," he said mockingly.

"You've been with someone before? Like in a relationship?"

"Yeah. A very long time ago."

"How long?"

"Hmmm…well, the current year is 2058, so… seventy years or there abouts."

"Oh," I waited, but he said nothing. I sighed heavily.

"Are you going to tell me about it?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. You know everything about me, and I know hardly anything about you," I said, staring up at him, attempting to look persuading.

"Before I tell this story, I need to explain something to you and for you to try to be understanding."

"Alright…" I said.

"I met him about a year after I was changed. At the time I knew I could survive off of animals, but I chose to feed from humans."

"Why?" I asked, not half as appalled as I should be by that statement.

"It's very difficult to explain, but…I guess it was that I didn't really have any connections to humans. Like how people who have many connections with animals don't eat them."

"So you're saying humans are like animals to you?" I said, self-righteously angry.

"No. That's not it. It's just…it's the food chain. That fact is, vampires feeding from animals isn't really the natural order. It's like if you ate flies instead of cows."

"I guess," the fact is, his reasoning made far too much sense to me. Damn him.

"Well, the whole basis for that relationship was around feeding so I thought I should explain that first. I came back from hunting one night living in New York City, and discovered there was a boy sleeping on piles of trash outside my window."

"Seriously? A hobo?" I snorted. Wow, and I was worried I had a lot to measure up to.

"If you are going to interrupt, don't ask," he said, his voice colder than I was used to.

"Sorry."

He sighed, before replying, "It's fine. I just…really don't want to talk about this, okay?"

"Okay," I said, still unsatisfied. I waited, hoping he would continue, but he didn't. Instead he sat up against the wall, pulling me up with him. Ander sat with his thighs pressed against his chest, his forehead resting on his knees. His eyes closed, and he became a statue, a figure that might as well have been carved from marble.

"Are you alright?" I asked, reach over to touch his arm. Ander's eyes opened, but he said nothing.

"You seem…sadder than usual," I fumbled over the proper words.

"Am I usually sad?" he asked, his lips twisting into a smile that only made his eyes more mournful by comparison.

"You just seem like you always are carrying a weight around on your shoulders, like every care in the world has been thrust upon you," I replied, proud of my use of similes.

"I just am so…tired."

"I'm guessing if I ask why you don't just go to sleep, you will throw me through a wall."

Ander laughed, "Yes. Not a very thick one though."

"Can I ask…how can you be tired? I thought you were invincible."

"I am. I mean my body obviously has no need to sleep, but that doesn't change the fact that my mind wants the rest," he replied.

"Do you remember sleeping?"

"Yes. It was the only time my mind was at peace."

"Do you remember other stuff? Like hunger or pain?"

"Hmm. Well I still experience pain, just not of the physical kind, the fleeting kind. And hunger, I suppose I still could be hungry for blood," I thought that was all he would say, but he kept talking, "But I do remember human hunger. I remember the days I went without full meals, still feel the clawing pain, like my stomach was threatening to digest itself. And I remember every pain I ever felt. Every broken bone and bruise. Every terrible image that is forever burned in my mind. It will never go away."

His head fell back on to his knees, and I knew, I hoped, I would never know what he had seen. I edged gently closer to him, judging his reaction carefully, until Ander was pressed against my side. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, a slightly awkward motion since he was several inches taller than me. He scooted down slightly so as to be on my level and leaned his head on my shoulder. I could feel his soft hair against my neck, and his shoulders gently rising and falling as he breathed silent breaths. My hand reached out and held on to his, seemingly without my mind telling it to.

Then I yawned and ruined the moment.

"Are you tired?" Ander asked. He didn't wait for my reply before he began to shift me so I was lying down. I tugged him with me so he was lying next to me. Wrapping an arm around him, I settled in for a good long sleep.

* * *

When I woke up in the morning, Ander was attempting to sneak out without waking me up. I sat up quickly.

"Morning."

"Oh, sorry. I was trying not to wake you up," he replied, sheepishly.

I got out of bed slowly to stand in front of him, "It's okay. I'm going to school today anyway."

"Are you?"

"Well, since you will decide anyway, why don't you tell me?"

Ander put two cold fingers beneath my chin, gently tilting my head up. He evaluated my face carefully, moving it side to side. He nodded.

"I'll walk. If you drive me it might be kind of suspect," he nodded again in response.

"By the way, I told Clara you tripped over your cat and fell down the stairs."

"You couldn't have come up with something that sounds manlier?" I asked, only half-joking. He chuckled slightly.

Once Ander's laughter died away, he didn't remove his hand from my face. He slowly bent his head down to kiss my neck and jaw line. I froze as I felt his cool lips on my cheek. He pulled back ever so slightly before moving closer again and gently kissing my mouth.

Ander's lips were cold and smooth, his mouth firm on mine. I wrapped my arms around him, foolishly thinking that if he decided to pull away, I could hold him here. I'm not sure how long we stood there kissing, me following his lead blindly and enjoying if far more than I should have.

Too soon he pulled back, despite my futile attempts to hold him firm. He smiled at me before leaping out of the window.

Alexander's POV

I wasn't planning to do that.

"At least I'm not out of practice," I mumbled to myself as I sped away from his house. When I swung into my room's window, Bella was sitting on my bed waiting.

"Hmmm, out all night. I might just have to ground you, mister," she joked, putting down the book she was reading. I laughed at her quip, in a good mood. I turned to my closet to pull out clothes for school.

"Alexander? Can I talk to you?" I turned around to face her. She patted the bed next to her, and I walked over to sit next to her.

_This might be better said in thoughts. You live in a very nosy house. _

I nodded, understanding I wouldn't be contributing too much to this conversation.

_I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you're okay._

Huh?

_Are you happy here?_

I thought for the briefest moment before nodding. She smiled.

_But you don't feel welcome? You feel like an intruder? An outsider?_

I knew I should have shaken my head no. But, there was a grain of truth to it. I shrugged.

_I understand. That's what it was like when I married Edward. It'll pass. _

She paused.

_Some things won't. It will take Rosalie a very long time to treat you like family. She's known Edward nearly a hundred and fifty years and she still hasn't particularly taken to him. Except…_

She paused again for a long time. I nodded encouragingly.

_Well, it depends on how long you stay here. _

I knew they didn't like me. I was just a house guest who has long overstayed their welcome.

_No, no. I don't mean it like that. I mean…you like to move around, don't like to stay in the same place for too long. _

It depends on the people. I wish she could read _my_ thoughts.

_But that's not the point. What I'm trying to say is that…I'm very happy you like it here. I'm very happy you're here. _

Bella paused again.

_I know that you and Alice are good friends. And Edward..._

She laughed.

_Certainly likes you more than I thought he would._

I feigned hurt and she laughed again.

_But I want to be close to you. Legally, I _am_ your mother. And you are so much younger than everyone else-_

I raised an eyebrow at her. I was older than her.

_You know what I mean. But, I mean…if you want…I would like to be to you what Esme is to all of us. _

She stopped seeming embarrassed. I guess I hadn't really thought much about that.

_And I just want you to know that you can always come to me if you want to talk or… you know sit in silence. I'm good for both. _

Bella stopped and stood up.

"Well, I suppose that is it," she paused again. She reached out and gently touched my shoulder before leaving the room.

That gave me a lot to think about.

* * *

At school, I was distracted, still thinking of my conversation with Bella. All this time I had been so caught up in self-pity that I never realized what I was missing. Alice and Edward had implied multiple times that Bella had wanted a child. I just didn't realize that was me.

I'd never thought of Mrs. Carlin being like a mother because I knew the situation was temporary at best. But I anticipated being with the Cullens for a very long time. Now I felt like an utter and complete moron.

I've had a mother all this time and been too thick to realize it.

"What's on your mind?" Clara asked as we sat doing class work in math.

I shook my head, wordlessly.

"Okaaaay."

After several moment of silence, Clara spoke again, moving on to a new subject.

"So you remember those flyers we saw. There up all over the school."

"Flyers?" I said, utterly confused.

"For that dance?" she said quietly, seeming to hope I didn't hear.

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, I was just thinking, and well…I guess….I thought it might be fun….you know…try something different-"

I knew where she was going, but asked anyway hoping to make this less painful for her.

"I thought maybe we could go…you know, together."

I stared at her blankly, hoping I could reverse time with my mind.

"Like a…" she squeaked the last word in a barely audible voice, "date?"

I sighed heavily. Dear God.

"Clara, can we talk about this later?"

Any hope she had been harboring before disappeared instantly. She looked down quickly at her notebook, and I knew there were tears in her eyes.

I leaned across our desks to talk quietly to her, "Clara, it's not like that. Just please…wait for me to explain."

She nodded, but didn't talk to me for the rest of the period. At lunch she was unusually quiet and brooding. Errol looked at me, a silent question in his eyes. I shook my head.

After school I made a point to find Clara and give her a ride. I dropped off Errol first today.

"Wow, I feel privileged," he said as he got out of the car.

"Don't. I'm really getting sick of you," I replied, smirking.

"Well, see you, Clara."

I drove in silence until we reached Clara's house. I didn't park directly in front of it. The car was silent except for her breathing and heartbeat. Clara turned to me, her eyes cold.

"Okay. You said you would explain."

"It's not you-"

"Wow, you are really creative. Let me guess. The problem isn't me, it's you. But I'm really great and one day I'll convince some chump to like me, right?" she said bitterly.

"No. Although the first part is true. It's just that you aren't my…uh…type?"

"What is your type? Trench coats and piercings to set off metal detectors?" Clara asked, turning fully in her seat to yell at me.

"No. Clara, it's not like that. It's something you have no control over."

"I'm too short? I'm not an effing model?" she said, using the strongest letters I've ever heard her use.

"No. You're a girl," Boy, I made that decision without thinking it through too much.

"It's raining. This is a car. Now that we've stated the facts, stop treating me like a child, and just tell me."

"You don't understand!" she was so frustrating.

I gripped her shoulders leaning in and speaking very slowly.

"I don't like girls. I like boys."

Slowly her angry and bitter expression faded to one of befuddlement.

"You…you…"

"Are gay? Why yes I am."

After a few moments of blank staring, she started laughing.

"Man what are those odds. There are exactly two gay people in Forks, and I know em both."

"I'm glad you find this so humorous," I said flatly, releasing my grip on her shoulders.

"Sorry. Well, that's the best news that could have come from this, I suppose."

"We could still go to the dance. You know as friends. You and me and Errol," Doh. I hoped she didn't put the me and Errol thing together.

"Oh lord no. I hate dances. Presented with a night of thumbscrews and one at a dance I would choose the former. Maybe we can all go to a movie or something."

"Well… alrighty then."

I backed up the car so it was parked in front of her house. She began to get out, before pausing and turning. No, no, no, no, no.

"Does Errol know?" Shit motherfucker! I nodded.

"God! I'm always that last to know everything aren't I," she said.

I laughed, relieved, "Bye, Clara."

"Bye, Alexander."

**A/N Well a lot happened. Sorry for not updating again. Please review and tell me how angry you are/what you want to happen! **


	25. Chapter 24

A/N I've been a bad, bad author.

Alexander's POV

I arrived at Errol's that night to find him sprawled on his bed. I held my breath just in case. I quietly crept closer to him and gently laid my hand on his back.

He started and sat up quickly, "Wha-?"

"Are you okay?" I asked. He grunted as he pulled himself up to lean against the wall. I sat next to Errol and looked over him carefully for any new injuries. None.

"Yeah…it just…hurts."

"What hurts?"

"Breathing… and my head."

I foolishly let myself breath and was hit be the scent of his blood. I jumped hastily off the bed to collect myself.

"You're bleeding."

"Uh-"

I kneeled on the bed next to him and carefully examine the back of his head. It wasn't bad but it still needed to be cleaned.

"What did he do to you?" I asked, after returning from his bathroom to get a cloth.

"Threw me against a wall."

"It probably knocked your broken rib," I said, eyeing his chest. Gently I felt his ribs with my hands, trying not to hurt him. "I think you need to take your shirt off."

"I think you are just trying to get me naked," Errol joked, but pulled his shirt off, careful not to scrape the back of his head. His chest was wrapped in bandages to heal the broken rib. I carefully unwrapped them and he breathed out in relief. The bandages must have pushed it a wrong way when he hit the wall. I felt around his ribs carefully to see if there was other damage. After discovering there wasn't, I gently rewrapped him in fresh bandages. I handed him his shirt, but he didn't put it back on.

Errol leaned closer and pressed his lips to mine. I pulled him closer and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His fingers tangled in my hair. We fell sideways so we were lying facing each other. I slid my hand down to rub his back, enjoying the warmth of him.

We laid there for a while kissing before he fell asleep. I buried my face in his neck, hyperaware of his pulse thrumming at a slow rhythm. He woke up, gently wrapping his arm around my shoulders. We sat in silence for few minutes before I spoke.

"Why did he throw you against a wall?" I smelled him panic.

"What?"

"Was there a particular reason he threw you into wall tonight?"

"Umm…uh… not really?" he said, nervous. _How could he know?_

"You're lying." _Fuck._

"No." _Shit, shit, shit, shit._

"I know you are. Why?"

"How do you know?"

"I just know, okay? Why won't you tell me?"

"He works in a store. Today a police officer came in to get something. He mentioned to him that Dr. Cullen said something about meeting me."

"Oh," Why would Carlisle tell? He knows what kind of trouble this could cause for Errol. He'd seen it.

"You know Errol, don't you ever think your life would be a lot easier if…" he sat up and I followed his move.

"If what? If I told?"

"Well, yeah. Trust me, I know, it feels weak. But if I'd just told…well I would be dead. That is a bad example though. You can live and have a future."

Errol shook his head, "No I can't. Both my parents were only children and my grandparents are all dead. I would end up in a foster home."

"But isn't that better than this?" I asked, pleading.

"You don't understand. I just…everything was so much easier before."

"Yeah your dad is an ass for doing this. But you can't change him. You can change your situta-"

"I'm not talking about my dad. I got over that a while ago. I mean before…"

"Before what?" I asked angry.

_Before you came._

"Nothing. It isn't important," he said avoiding my gaze.

"I know it is. Just say it."

"How do you know, Alexander? You always act like you know everything about me and you don't. You can't know what I'm thinking!"

Might as well tell him. "Yes. I can."

"Just because your dad hit you too doesn't mean you know what I'm thinking!" he cried, furiously jumping off the bed and pacing.

"That's not why. I can read minds, Errol."

Errol stopped cold.

"You can…what?"

"I hear people's thoughts. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"You…you've been able to hear everything I'm thinking? Everything? And you didn't tell me?" he wasn't just angry. He was hurt.

"I'm so sorry. But it would have just made it harder for you because I can't turn it off. I can't stop hearing your thoughts."

Errol stood silently for a moment.

"Go. Can you please just leave? I have to…think."

I stood up and waited a moment before slipping out of the window.

* * *

Clara's POV

The day after Alexander told me he was gay, I felt a little happier. I mean I definitely knew before that he didn't like me, but at least now I knew it wasn't personal. I felt a little less happy when Alexander walked into math and didn't talk to me. How could I possibly have already done something wrong?

"Hey," I said, hoping for a reply. He nodded in response. During German he was a little better, but not much. On our way to lunch he said he had to go to the library and disappeared into the crowd of students.

I got to our usual table at lunch, but fifteen minutes later neither Errol nor Alexander was there. I weighed my options. I could a) go try to find Alexander in the library, b) go sit with Nancy, Whitney, Annie, Peggy, and Myrna, or c) I could go talk to Ms. Ramone about my plummeting grade in math. Option 'a' was appealing, but I'm pretty sure he isn't in the library. I don't even want to think about option 'b'. So that left me with 'c'. Great.

I tossed the rest of my lunch and exited the cafeteria. Walking behind a building to get to Ms. Ramone's, I saw two people talking, one of them with their back pressed against a wall, the other person facing them. Everyone was either in the cafeteria eating or in class. I crept closer hiding behind a ledge to watch. I'm nosy.

A moment later I got braver and snuck even closer, finding a good hiding place in a good vantage point. The tall person was definitely Alexander, there was no mistaking him, and the second person with their back against the wall was…Errol? Huh.

I watched for moment. They appeared to be talking about something serious. Errol ducked his head and Alexander lifted his chin up to look at him. He said something and a minute Errol laughed. He reached out and touched Alexander's chest. That's weir- What?

Alexander just bent his head and either said something that could only be said REALLY close or he kissed Errol. They stood for a second kissing before Alexander pulled away and led Errol into an empty classroom.

After I got over the shock of realizing my two best friends were making out, I decided I was just being thick to not have put two and two together. Then I realized I had been the third wheel and hadn't even known it. Damn.

I realized I had been standing there for almost a half an hour just thinking about how this changed everything. I looked at my watch and lunch was going to be over in one minute. When that happened Errol and Alexander were going to get caught. Shit.

After thinking quickly, I made a snap decision and ran toward the room. I banged hard on the door before running away as fast as I could.

The bell rang.

Alexander's POV

I walked to PE triumphant that Errol and I had made up. Also thankful to Clara for alerting me to the fact that we were about to get caught. I would have to judge Clara's thoughts after school about her reaction.

Changing in the locker room usually was not the ordeal the movies had promised me. Today was different.

I was fumbling with my shirt, when a guy, whose name I had never felt any need to know or remember, spoke from behind me.

"Wow, Kline. You are looking even more starved than usual. Been watching your figure?" he laughed along with the few other people in the aisle.

He reached out to poke me in the ribs, but I whipped around quickly grasping his wrist. He looked surprised at the strength of the grip, but he quickly put on a smirk. Before he could complete his attempt to hit me, I took hold of his other arm and sent him slamming against the lockers.

He looked stunned for a minute, before regaining his footing, furious at being embarrassed so thoroughly. He began to advance toward me but stopped. I could see in his mind how scary he found me, standing over him at least three inches, my cold black eyes boring holes in his face.

By the time he could focus on anything besides not wetting his pants I had my shirt on and was walking swiftly into the gym.

When I got to my car after school, Clara was already there looking harried.

"What's go you so upset?" I asked, standing in front of her. There was no rush to get in the car sine it wasn't raining.

"Someone said you beat up Nixon."

"Who-" Oh. Him. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that. He was harassing me, and now he won't do it again," I grinned at her, unlocking the car.

"They said he started crying."

"I did make a quick escape, so I wouldn't know. It really wasn't anything worth talking about."

By this time Errol had approached the car looking curious. He raised an eyebrow at me over Clara's head as he got in the car. Oh, I'd forgotten. Clara now knew about Errol and I. She didn't say anything on the drive, but once I had stopped in front of her home she twisted in her seat to look at both me and Errol.

"I don't care. Really."

Then she got out the car walking up the porch steps with a definite spring in her step.

"Well, that makes things significantly easier," Errol said as he slid awkwardly from the back seat to the front seat, "Did she really mean it?"

"Yep. She's just relieved that I actually have no interest in girls."

Errol had a good laugh about that, and I indulged in a chuckle as I sped toward his house.

"So…I heard you made Nixon shit his pants and cry for his mommy."

"Oh, now that is just false. He was taunting me and attempted to hit me-"

"Bad idea," Errol agreed.

"And I simply defended myself. I didn't even hurt him. I only shoved his a bit. Everyone is acting like I made a serious threat to his life," I was exasperated to say the least. I had clearly drawn unnecessary attention to myself.

"Come on, Alexander. Half the guys in the school have gotten in fights with Nixon and they were twice your-"

"Keep talking like that and you'll meet the same fate as Nixon," I joked.

"The point is," he said, ignoring my interruption, "no one can understand how you could've made one harmful move toward him without being torn to bits let alone actually spooked him."

"Pff, and I'm not even that strong."

"Oh please, vampire. Your sarcasm is not appreciated."

I parked in front of his home. I turned to face him seriously.

"I'm not joking. Any other male from my coven could easily destroy me."

Errol looked at me dubiously, but became more serious after a moment.

"You're joking."

"Errol, I'm tiny. You haven't seen Emmett. When Emmett says he doesn't trust someone as far as he could throw them…well it really isn't saying too much."

"Really?" he looked scared now.

"Yeah, don't worry about it though. I won't sick Emmett on you. Just don't play video games with him. I learned that the hard way," I made a face thinking of the shirt which now had a rather large hole in the chest.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"Well I beat him at some fighting game…and he _may_ have punched me threw a wall."

"A…a wall?" Errol spluttered.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. Just don't get on my bad side or beat him at _Street Fighter_," I winked at him.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbled under his breath. He was silent for a moment, thoughtful.

"So…if you could hurt Nixon without even trying…"

"Errol, I'm not like you or other humans. I look like you, but the similarities pretty much stop there."

"You don't look human," he was silent for another minute before speaking again, "So every time you kiss me or hold me, you could crush me."

"I would never hurt you, Errol. I have much more control than most vampires, especially for being so young."

"So young…" he muttered under his breath, "I'm sorry. It just hits me so suddenly sometimes how different you are. How you will look just like this a thousand years from now…"

"Trust me, I get it."

A/N I don't deserve it for not updating for so long, but I'll still say it. Review.


	26. Chapter 25

A/N This chapter is longer than the last few, so hopefully that makes up for the long gap. Lo siento!

Alexander's POV

I turned the car off at Errol's house. He leaned across the partition between our seats to kiss my cheek. My eyes closed at the pleasurable warmth. Errol nuzzled his face into my neck before he spoke. I don't think he felt my jaw tighten.

"Are you coming tonight?"

"I don't think so," I responded, gently pushing him back into his own seat. At Errol's hurt expression I hurriedly grasped his hand in mine.

"Um…okay," he said glancing down, before turning his attention to opening the door.

"It isn't you, it's just…I well, um…. I haven't fed in a long time. Too long to be safe, actually."

Errol turned back to me, not nearly fearful enough at the thought of being in a confined space with a hungry vampire. He reached out slowly, his eyes full of caution, and touched the dark shadows beneath my eyes. He pulled away quickly at my sharp intake of breath.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, scooting to the far edge of his seat.

"It isn't your fault," he couldn't know how loud his heart was hammering, or how his finger tips vibrated, imperceptible to a human, with his pulse on my skin, "but it wouldn't due for me to lose control at school, and certainly not while we are… alone."

Errol smiled nervously.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," in his mind I saw he intended to lean over to me again, but he quickly remembered and nodded his head quickly before practically leaping from the car. He was in the house quickly, and once he was out of sight, I guiltily turned my face toward where he had been, inhaling deeply. Exotic and spicy, but still sweet.

I swallowed hard, barely containing my urge to punch the steering wheel. I had been foolish and inconsiderate of the danger to Errol, and even Clara, for leaving feeding for this long.

Once home I carefully blocked my thoughts so Edward wouldn't see the risk I had taken. I'm sure if he had he would have told someone else in the family, and I would be prosecuted. I had my moments of weakness I suppose, but most of the time I have better control than most of the Cullens can even dream of.

I did all of my homework, and after checking every answer, I moved ahead to what we would be doing next week. Anything to distract myself.

It was a few hours after dark, probably 9:30 or so when I moved from my desk to the window sill.

_Going out?_ Edward. He had been wondering all afternoon why I was blocking.

I gathered myself hurriedly before opening my mind just long enough to reply.

_Hunting_

And I was gone.

* * *

I really shouldn't be doing this. I should go home. I should go home and hold my breath for a really long time or take a cold shower.

But I knew I wouldn't.

I continued moving towards Errol's house. It was 3 o'clock in the morning. I didn't break my stride as I swung up into the tree. It took only the briefest second to pry his window open from the outside. Once inside, I closed it swiftly.

"Wha- Who's there?" Errol asked groggily, beginning to sit up. Before he was even halfway there, I was on top of him.

Errol's POV

My window shut hard, jarring me from sleep.

"Wha- Who's there?" I tried to sit up. The next moment I was pinned down by a dark figure. I inhaled a deep breath of air. Ander.

His lips found mine quickly, holding my head firmly in his large hand. I responded with a cautious enthusiasm. This wasn't like him. After a long moment I realized my lungs were crying out for air. He pulled back slightly, and I drew in a deep breath before I gasped at the unexpected coldness of his lips on my neck, my jaw.

Ander blew softly on my face and I made an embarrassing noise of pleasure before Ander's mouth cut me off, moving hungrily. I moaned softly, my arms clinging to him, my fingers pressing into his back. It continued like this for several minutes. I parted my lips, letting my tongue move into his mouth. He groaned in response, shifting on top of me so he could wrap an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. I moved my hand down slightly, to slide under his shirt feeling the cold, strong skin of his back. Ander's lips softened on mine, losing some of the urgency. He pulled back slightly, carefully raising himself off of me so he was supporting all of his weight with his arms.

Ander hung his head, shaking it slightly, "I shouldn't have come here."

"I for one am pretty pleased you did," I said, my breath still labored. I reached up a hand to press against his cheek, "But why shouldn't you have come here?"

"It was dangerous. We are both very lucky I didn't hurt you just now."

"Did you not…eat?" I asked, not able to use any of the words he had used to describe it before.

"No I did. I just…I wasn't myself when I made the decision to come here."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what that means."

"When I hunt, I'm more animal than human. My mind is governed by raw need, rather than by logic," Ander explained softly.

"So you came here. You were going to…" I trailed off, frightened.

He looked at me sharply, "Of course not. I came to fill a different…need."

He smiled at me ruefully, before ducking his head, burying his face in my neck. One of my hands moved slowly up his back, closing briefly around the back of his neck, before stroking his hair.

Ander's icy breath danced teasingly over my neck. He moaned softly before whispering almost inaudibly in my ear "You are so wonderful."

I chuckled lightly, warmth spreading up through my belly. After another moment, Ander pulled away so he was looking down at me.

"So how are you?"

"Right now? Pretty good."

"And before right now?"

"Worse than right now, but pretty average otherwise."

"You're not hurt again?" he asked concern in his black eyes.

I shook my head, smiling slightly, "You can check if you want."

I raised myself just enough to give him a light kiss on the lips. Ander smiled a catlike grin, but it soon morphed into a thoughtfully, sad expression.

"I don't think that that would be smart."

"You probably know best. You are much older than me," I wrapped my arms around his torso again pulling him close to me so I could better appreciate the sweet scent of his hair. He heaved a heavy sigh, the coolness swirling across my neck and cheek.

"I probably should let you sleep," I was happy to hear the note of regret in his face.

"Probably. But it's really hard to think of sleeping after a wakeup like that."

He laughed throatily, before asking, "What do you want to do then?"

Ander didn't wait for a response before kissing me again, his hand sliding slowly down my waist. With an incredible effort, I pulled myself away.

"Actually I want to talk to you."

"Alright then," he sounded slightly disappointed, but when I could see his face again he looked at me expectantly, waiting for the question he knew I was about to ask.

"What is it like for you, being hungry? It must be different from human hunger, right?"

"Very different. Human hunger is usually uncomfortable at worst, clawing at your inside. A pain in your stomach. The need I feel now for blood is very different. No matter how old you are or how in control you are, the need is always there, it's just how strong you are to resist it."

"Need?"

"Yeah, it's kind of like a…pull? Yeah that works. A pull that you feel, like a magnet drawing you toward blood. It's something you feel in all of your body."

"So it's more a metaphorical pain than actual bodily pain?" I asked, confused.

He snorted, "Not at all. Have you ever had a sore throat? Imagine that a million times over. It's a burning, itch in your throat that can't soothed unless you satisfy the craving for blood. A fire that smolders constantly, rearing up at certain moments."

"Oh."

"And we," he stopped. Ander seemed to be thinking whether to share this with me.

"Go on," I smiled encouragingly.

"Well, you've probably noticed that my breath always smells kind of sweet?"

I nodded vigorously. He smirked.

"Like humans produce saliva, vampires have a constant flow of a substance that smells and tastes incredibly tempting…to lure in our prey. When we are particularly enticed we produce more of it than usual."

Prey.

"Is it just to draw humans in? To tempt them closer?"

"Um, no. Once I bite…my venom goes into the wound and incapacitates the victim."

"How?" I asked.

"It's incredibly painful to have it in your blood system. And as long as it is in there while your heart is beating you can become a vampire. Most people are drained and killed before that, but some, like me, are left with it and…well change."

"Wow."

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, eyeing me cautiously.

"No of course not!" I said too quickly, "I mean, you can stay if you want to."

Ander bent his head closer, his lips against my ear.

"I want to."

* * *

In the morning, I awoke without the assuring weight of him on top of me. I saw him walking toward the window, trying not to wake me.

_Don't go._ It was the first time I tried to talk to him through my mind. Ander turned quickly, walking back to the bed. He kneeled beside it, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"I have to change for school," he explained softly. Without really deciding to do it, my hand reached out and touched the collar of his shirt, fumbling slightly with a button, brushing against the cool, smooth column of his throat.

Ander's eyes were closed, as he grasped my hand with both of his, pressing it to his face. He opened his eyes resolutely, bending slightly to kiss me before he was gone.

I hate it when he does that.

Alexander's POV

I felt uneasy as I dressed. Perhaps it was the thick, heady scent of Errol that clung to my clothes. Or the feeling I could still feel his hot lips on mine.

"Long hunt then?"

I spun around, surprised by the voice, falling to a defending crouch. Edward chuckled at the move and closed the gap between us, to sit on my bed.

"Don't get too close to Jasper," he warned. At my questioning look, he responded, "The smell of human still irritates him and if I didn't know your heart wasn't beating, I would say our house had been infiltrated."

Edward snickered, and reached out to pat my head condescendingly. I smacked his hand away, perhaps harder than I needed to, and rose to my feet. I stalked to the closet, shedding my shirt and exchanging it for a clean one. I would leave my pants and shoes…. I looked down and remembered I had kicked off my shoes last night at Errol's and somehow managed to leave this morning without them.

"Well, shit."

"What's wrong?"

I turned back to Edward, "Oh, you're still here. Did you need something or did you only come to taunt me?"

"I needed to speak with you about something, but the taunting was an unexpected plus."

"Oooh, am I in trouble?" I said mockingly as I laced up my shoes. I was in a bad mood, and I'm perfectly content to take it out on Edward.

"Yes, actually," I looked up in surprise, "Bella left for work a bit ago so I wanted to take the opportunity to speak with you while she was out. I know she came to you a bit ago to offer that you could talk to her if you needed. Quite frankly, I'm a little perturbed that you didn't realize that earlier, because Bella adopted you to be her child, as much as we are children to Esme. Her offer to you was as much for her as for you."

I ducked my head shamefully. I'd been incredibly self-absorbed lately.

"So, I suggest you find some time away from your hu-" he altered his speech quickly, "Errol, to talk to Bella."

I met his eyes, and nodded my consent. Edward looked at me for a moment, pensive. His thoughts were blocked from me. Odd.

"You never really had a father, Alexander."

"I know I was there."

"Can you please lose the sarcasm for five minutes?" at my silence he continued, "I would like to be a father figure to you, it you would allow it. It's something I know Bella wants," he paused considering his words, "and it's something I would like very much."

I stared at him shocked. Even though I could see in his mind how utterly stupid I looked, I couldn't compose my face.

"Well, that's that then. I'll leave you," Edward stood and walked toward my door. He turned walking back to me, and placed his palm against the top of my head. He pulled back quickly and on his way out the door he turned again to speak.

"And don't forget about Bella."

Edward left the room, the slight undertone of threat hanging on to the words.

Just like Dad.

* * *

Errol's POV

I walked to school the next morning feeling incredibly pleased about the night before. I was oddly refreshed, despite the fact that I got very little sleep. Even before Alexander woke me, I had lain awake for hours. I felt guilty. Before he explained to me the hunger he felt for blood, I was convinced he had used that as an excuse yesterday. That he didn't want to see me anymore.

Last night had proven I had been wrong to think so.

Unfortunately warm and fuzzy emotions do little in 32° weather, but luckily when I got to the school parking lot I quickly located Ander's car, and found him and Clara in it. I tapped lightly on the window of the back seat and Alexander unlocked the door, and I slid in, grateful for the heat.

"Aw, Alexander, you never let me have fun. It would have been funnier to just let him stand in the cold."

"Well, it is too late now," his smooth voice replied turning to smile at me, "Unless you would like to volunteer to leave the car so Clara can have her fun?"

"No thanks," I said. That reminded me. I attempted to talk to him again through my thoughts.

_You forgot your shoes in my room. If I hadn't seen them this morning, I would have thought I'd merely hallucinated last night ever happening._

Alexander smiled and shook his head slightly.

"Okay, we need to talk," said Clara, turning in her seat to look at both of us.

"Are you breaking up with us?" Alexander asked, feigning hurt, although he probably already knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. Damn vampire. He looked at me, raising one eyebrow.

"No. But I do want to talk about..er…you two."

"You said you were okay with it," I said, hoping she hadn't changed her mind. Although knowing teenage girls, she probably would have just avoided us…or told everyone.

"Oh, yeah I don't care about that," she waved it away like a fly, "But I do care that you didn't tell me sooner."

We looked at each other, both of us looking to the other for the answer. I guess we never had talked about telling Clara. Just kind of assumed there would be another Ryan situation on our hands.

"I mean I certainly don't enjoy the prospect of being a third wheel…although people will start talking again if I leave, like they were before I started sitting with you. I'm kind of a necessary third wheel. We are like a tricycle," she paused shaking her head vigorously, "But that's not the point. The point is, I wish you had told me sooner, because then a lot of things would have made sense," she paused looking triumphant that she had managed to say all that without being interrupted, "so there."

"I'm sorry, Clara," Alexander said sincerely.

"Me, too," I added.

"Don't worry about."

Alexander looked at the dashboard clock and opened his door. Clara and I followed, and we walked to class.

A lot had changed between us in the past two days. Between Alexander and I. Between Alexander and I, and Clara. But I think they changed for the better.

I hope.

A/N So there you go. A bit more PG-13 than usual. For any of you who walk around with your mind in the gutter (your lovely author raises her hand), they didn't have sex. I was reading over it and thought it was a little confusing, so I wanted to clarify that. Hope everyone liked and shows me the love by reviewing!!! Will update again soon! Pinky swear. And we all know what happens to people who break pinky swears.

They go to the deepest circle of hell along with people who finish the toilet paper, think about replacing it, but don't. Think about it.


	27. Chapter 26: The Return

**Alexander**

Disgust. Fear.

Neither emotions one wants to see in the face of a lover while explaining one's self. And yet, both were evident, wrought upon Errol's young, human face last night as I tried to make him understand that I am, in essence, a hunter, and him my prey. Although obviously I had enough tact not to put it quite that way, it took only half a brain to see that.

I shifted, crammed between the bed and night table in my room, to stretch my legs.

And then there was the issue of Edward and Bella, dear "mom" and "dad". I had no problem with what Edward had proposed to me, it was more the revelation he had left me with. Edward and Bella represent the future, Errol's and mine. Although from what I've gleaned from their minds, they had themselves convinced they were going to be together forever before they had even spoken, so they are a seriously questionable example relationship wise.

But it remains, Bella was dead-set to be changed, and Edward dead-set against it. Quite frankly, any qualms I have with changing Errol are mostly based on heart-breaking past experience, not this soulless martyrdom bullshit the Cullens love. Although from what Carlisle has told me, memory loss is rare so the odds of Errol having the same fate as Anthony is highly unlikely.

Naturally the fact remains that Errol hasn't expressed interest in this, not that it insults me or anything. It just always seemed like the simplest solution to his paternal situation, and I've been waiting weeks for him to realize it.

My train of thought led me to the inevitable place it always goes when I think of my dear human. I aimlessly gouged a deeper track in the wooden side of the table with my pocket knife as I allowed myself to follow it.

Anthony had never been disgusted. He had understood, and as long as I didn't hurt anyone he accepted me and went as far as to steal for me. Anthony never had any romanticized ideas about me or my kind. When I hear Errol's thoughts, it's clear he thinks me a mystic entity, a super hero. I am neither. Last night he seemed to realize this.

But most distressing was that there was never any question for me as to whether I loved Anthony, or even that I would change him.

I haven't felt that kind of certainty since.

* * *

I sat like a statue in the same clearing I had talked with Alice in what felt like ages ago. Bella sat daintily on a rock next to me, in amicable silence. I struggled to form the words to breach the subject. Luckily I didn't have to.

"Having man troubles, Alexander?" she asked slyly.

"Yes."

_Just like with Edward and I. After all he's been through, it would be so good to see him have what I have…_

Well, a big shout out to Edward for forcing me to crush my adoptive mothers romantic notions of happily-ever-afters.

"I've just been doing a lot of thinking lately about our relationship, Errol's and mine…and I'm worried."

"About the future? Your various special differences?" she asked.

"Um, yeah that." God, don't make me say it.

"Well, I understand what you're going through. Edward had the same conflict. And look at us, we turned out just fined," Bella smiled.

I wonder if one can actually commit suicide through sheer will.

"That's not so much the, um, issue, Bella."

"What's wrong? Is he not sure about being changed? Because I'm Carlisle could explain details to-"

"I don't want to change him."

Bella stared at me, clearly shocked.

"Oh, well, um, I- er, I suppose…" she trailed off.

"I mean, it's not that, so much as I don't love him," I spluttered, "or at least I don't think I love him as much as I'm supposed to."

_Oh._

"Alexander," she said, tentatively covering my hand with her comparatively small one, "you have to understand, you don't _have_ to love anyone. You can't control that."

I nodded, pensive.

"However," her voice took on a new undertone, a more severe one, "if Errol has any notions that you will change him, or even that you'll be staying with him for a long time, it's not fair to him to keep this a secret from him."

"He doesn't. Or at least not about changing. I don't think it has even occurred to him."

She paused, thinking carefully.

"Well, I suppose if you both enjoy each other's company and understand that it's nothing more-"

"I'm afraid he loves me," I said bluntly.

"Then you really don't have a choice. I think that there is clearly a right and a wrong option. Either you can keep on like this and the prospect of his humanity will occur to him, and then you'll either end up breaking his heart then or years later when he realizes you never loved him and took his humanity,"

Gee Bella, I can't quite tell…that's the right option, correct?

"Or you can do the right thing, and be honest."

Fuck.

* * *

**Errol's**

That night I slept fantastically. My bed felt warmer than it had in months, and I dreamt of Ander…or at least I assume that's who it was. A tall, thin figure, reached out to me from the shadows, and I took their hand. It was warm.

At 2:37 I heard a faint creak. My eyes cracked open slowly, without the usual urgency. I knew who it was. Sitting up in bed, I smiled sleepily at Ander who responded with a small grin.

"How long have you been here?" I asked, scooting over to make room for him in the bed, rather than leave on the floor in his current position.

"A few hours," he responded, merely sitting on the edge of the bed. I adjusted to sit with my back up against the wall and he followed suit.

I felt him stiffen ever so slightly as I wrapped an arm around him.

"What's wrong? Why didn't you wake me?" I asked, comforted a bit as he relaxed infinitesimally.

"You looked like you were enjoying your sleep. I didn't want to disturb you," his smile was slightly more genuine.

"Aw, you're never a disturbance," I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. A long comfortable silence followed.

"Errol."

"Yes, Ander?"

"Do you love me?"

I opened my eyes and sat up slowly. Turning to look into his eyes, I considered the question.

"I'm…not sure. I guess I haven't thought of it too much," well that's terribly awkward.

A moment later something occurred to me.

"What about you?"

He looked at me quizzically. Aw, don't act all stupid.

"Do you love me?"

Ander met my eyes.

Pain. Guilt. But not love.

"I'm very fond of you…but I don't think I love you."

That probably should have crushed me or something but it didn't. More and more as I analyzed our relationship, it would have been hypocritical to be angry at him. He had done a lot for me, and I, as he put it, was very fond of him.

But not in that Romeo and Juliet suicidal kind of love.

I gave him a weak half grin. "I think I understand."

He relaxed and looked relieved.

"I just didn't want to carry on and then hurt you. Because I wasn't lying, I'm very fond of you, and I very much enjoy your company. It's just that for us to be able to work in the long run, we kind of have to have that epic, earth shattering end all and be all kind of love."

I was feeling better and better about this. Especially now as I realized something.

"You still love him, don't you? The hobo?" I said slyly.

He stared at me a moment, and then swallowed hard, nodding. I contemplated that and decided that I couldn't exactly regret him. He had perhaps saved my life, and it was the first time in years I had felt companionship. And even if I was losing his companionship, in the end, he still didn't have his hobo.

A long silence ensued.

"Well," I said, turning to him seriously, "I sure as hell am not going to be the one to tell Clara."

* * *

**Alexander **

The next week felt odd. Every time it started to feel normal again between Errol and I, something little would happen to ruin it. He would stop mid-sentence and I could see in his mind he was about to ask if I was coming that night. Or worse, when I would drop him off he would start to lean over to kiss my cheek, or ruffle my hair.

It was like living in limbo.

As per Errol's request, I was the one who informed Clara. I think she was the one who took it the worst.

After a week of Errol and me awkwardly coexisting, we had a silent agreement. We sat together at lunch, but he stopped riding home with Clara and me.

The worst part was that it wouldn't have been nearly so bad if he hadn't pinpointed exactly how I felt. How I still wasn't over someone who'd essentially died seventy years ago, and how we had been a convenience in each other's lives, comfort, companionship, safety, but nothing more.

I was glad he wasn't hurt, but it might be nice if he was at least a little angry. He just appeared to pity me and my emotionally stunted self.

Humans.

* * *

**Alice**

I was very perturbed at Bella. Ever since she had convinced Alexander that he needed to stop seeing his boyfriend he had been absolutely no fun.

I went into his room every night to bug him and try to cheer him up, but he was just so compliant! I asked him questions and he answered without a fight. Ridiculous! Alexander barely even chuckled with me when I found out his middle name. And the worst thing was I couldn't even ask any of the questions I really wanted to ask.

I couldn't ask about his mysterious love who he had taunted me with and then never told me about. I don't care if he's eighty plus years old, that boy acts just like an obnoxious fifteen-year-old.

Not to mention I was running out of trite, fluff questions to ask.

Tonight I was just generally snooping through his room while he read. He didn't even yell at me to "get my nose out of his shit before he did it himself." That's why Alexander is so much more fun than the others. They are all so old! Even Emmett is always a perfect gentleman, but Alexander grew up in the eighties where everyone basically just shit on everyone…that and I could probably take him in a fight.

One of his vinyl, 'I Want To Break Free', clattered to the ground from my hands. I didn't even get to enjoy his fury, because I was too lost in a vision.

_Alexander. A girl with drab brown hair in the rain. All black. A funeral?_

By the time I came back Alexander was halfway to the window.

* * *

**Errol: 3 days later**

I don't remember exactly what happened. My dad came home, and boy was he mad. Can't recall what about. I just remember floating in and out as he thrashed me. I think the first inkling I had that I was dead, or severely brain damaged, was when I saw my dad, seemingly without provocation, slam into the kitchen cabinets.

When I woke up I had that feeling you get when you know you've overslept. Where it feels like you just slept for 16 hours, and boy now you are going to pay for that.

I was in a hospital. There was a tube in my throat. There was a bag full of liquid next to me too, and I heard the beep of a heart rate monitor.

This couldn't be good.

I started to turn my head to look around, but the room started to spin, the bland striped wall paper swimming. The probably wasn't a good sign.

"You shouldn't move your head. You have a severe concussion."

Ander.

"What happened?" I asked, but I barely recognized it. The voice that came out was cracked and hoarse, and the movement sent fresh stale saliva into my mouth, and the taste of caked blood that had been sitting dormant for too long in the crevices of my mouth.

He appeared by the side of my bed and explained, using vague, non-illuminating terms. He found me and stopped my father. Nothing like this would happen again.

At this point the nurse came in and gave me more morphine and I was out.

My mind gave me crazed, drug addled dreams, which I chose to assume were the events that transpired while I was indisposed.

Ander beating my father to a pulp, then calling the police. Taking me to the hospital. My emotional state in the dreams swerved from elation at the idea of never seeing my father again, and misery at the thought that I had nowhere to go. Happiness that Ander had rescued me, and furry that he had put me in so many vulnerable, uncertain positions lately.

**The next day**

They let me leave the hospital to stay with Ander. My father was in prison and there wasn't much chance that he would be leaving anytime soon. After I fully recovered they would put me in some kind of temporary care until a more permanent home became available.

The next three days were nice. Ander stayed with me at his house and we talked a lot. I felt like I finally actually knew him. I felt like he was human.

On the night of the third day, Ander and I were sitting on the porch of the house, the longest journey I'd made in a while.

"So do you have any idea what's going to happen to me?" I asked, "You have experience with the foster system, right?"

"Well, you'll probably be in a foster home during your father's trial, and then…"

"Then?" I asked dully.

"Bella has cooked up a scheme."

"What kind of scheme?" I asked, curious.

"She works in social care…and she wants to adopt you."

I sat for a moment shocked.

Ander continued, humor creeping into his voice, "I believe they enjoyed me, but want to see what one who is less disenchanted is like."

I remained silent a bit longer.

When I finally spoke, I wasn't entirely sure what to say, "That would be…odd."

"Don't get too excited now."

"I just mean it would be different to live in a house full of the undead."

"Hmm, I suppose so."

We sat in comfortable silence as I leaned on his shoulder for support.

"We're really over, aren't we?"

I felt his the movement of his jaw against the top of my head.

"I believe, we really are."

* * *

**2 weeks later: Alexander**

The house was empty except for me. Everyone was out on a hunting trip. Edward had tried to guilt me into going, but I wasn't much in the mood, and the idea of three days of silence was very appealing.

The trial for Errol's father was going to take longer than we thought, so he wouldn't be coming to live with us for another few months or so. He seemed to be happy though. He didn't have to do to school, and the family he's with seems very nice.

I had made the executive decision so skip school the next few days. School had terrible after Errol's dad was arrested. No one knew my involvement (and by involvement, I mean I found him and called the police, not I came close to tearing his father limb from limb), except for Clara, of course.

I felt so emotionally exhausted. Like I didn't all those years ago after I turned Anthony. After the gut wrenching pain had passed, I had floated, empty without purpose or meaning. Without wants or feelings. Just raw.

I missed him so much, still.

I was curled up in my favorite place between the bed and the night stand. Frustrated and cramped I kicked the table across the floor. It collided with the wall, and the lamp crashed to the wood floor. I would clean that up later. For now I just close my eyes.

"Ander?"


	28. The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot

**A/N If you haven't read the one shot associated with this story you should. **

Alexander

I jumped in surprise, something I didn't do often. Not only had there been no noise in the room, but no thoughts, no scent. What was more concerning was the sound of the voice. Distinct in my memory, but muffled with time.

I looked up slowly, both preparing for disappointment and to attack if my visitor held an ill will. I wasn't to be disappointed.

He stood in front of me, the same as the day I'd left him seventy years ago. Auburn hair, more red than brown, messy in an orderly way shagged in his eyes, tickled his ears. Pale, ashen skin like mine stretched over high cheek bones and a strong, angular jaw. A bit of golden-red beard stubble brushed across his lower cheeks and jawbone. Although serious in expression, his full mouth still held a slightly amused twist to it. His build was strong, solid, and his significant 75 inches of height only added to his imposing presence.

"Ander? I…I understand if you don't want to see me or talk to me. I just I've been searching for you for years…and-and I remembered," he finished lamely.

I rose to my feet, bracing my hands against the wall and the end table. Stepping cautiously closer, I carefully examined the planes of his face. Re-familiarized myself with the textures and contours of his mind, the richness of his scent, muted but still distinct.

"If you want to punch me, or throw me out, I understand," his eyes met mine, like they had so many times, not hazel but black.

I continued to stare at him, my face carefully blank. He dropped his gaze from mine and spoke in a beaten voice,

"I don't even deserve that much."

I stumbled forward, collapsing into his familiar embrace, dry sobs ripping from my throat, my chest heaving with the tears I couldn't cry. Anthony lost his balance as I wrapped my arms around him as tightly as my strength allowed and we slid awkwardly to floor. He pulled me tightly to his chest as I crumpled into a ball against him.

Time ceased to exist. It could have been hours that we sat there, Anthony murmuring comforting words in my ear, stroking my back, kissing my hair, or it could have been mere moments. Likewise, it was seventy years since he last held me like this, but if felt as though we were right back in the dingy apartment in New York City, year 1988, right across the hall from Mrs. Jenkins.

* * *

I wasn't exactly sure when, but at some point he shifted us to a more comfortable position leaning against the bed. Anthony had adjusted me slightly so that I sat in his lap, my head tucked under his chin.

"What happened?" my voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

"I remembered. Slowly at first, until one day, you were all there was, nothing existed in my mind but you."

"You had a… mate. A woman."

"Yes. I met her probably ten or so years after you… after I changed. Everything was just normal for the next 55 years or so, but then weird things started happening. She would kiss me, but I wasn't kissing her. I would watch a movie, hear a song, and I could feel something warm inside me. I could remember a smell, the feel of smooth, marble skin. Then, she was called to the Volturi for long periods of time. They wanted her to join their ranks, she had some great power."

He shook his head, and bitter tone biting into his voice.

"I trusted her when she said she wasn't sure exactly what they wanted. But the more she was away, the more I remembered. While she was gone, I would lie in bed at night, knowing I couldn't sleep, but feeling like it would be wrong not to be there. I started to remember things more clearly. Certain topics gave me memories, doing certain things, hearing certain noises. Everything was linked back to you."

Anthony pulled away to look me in the eyes, leaning his forehead against mine.

"I remembered the feel of your lips, the touch of your hand. Like walking around living my non-life, you were always there with me. Then she would come back. Everything got fuzzy again. I found excuses to leave for days, and you would come back to me. She was suppressing my memories."

I blinked. All these years. I could have had him.

"As you may have noticed, I can hide my presence."

I hadn't actually bothered to wonder too much about that.

"When I was around her, I was always careful to hide my presence and things came back even faster. I started remembering not only you, but also my family, my life, my career…" he paused before lowering his voice, "Myself.

"A few weeks later, I was gone," he finished, brushing my hair back behind my ear.

"How did you find me?" I asked, my voice still soft. I didn't want to do anything to spoil the equilibrium, to have this perfect little dream end.

"I started searching for you everywhere. The apartment, the cabin in the woods, the subways you told me you'd been changed in. After that I just started sweeping the country. I knew there were some places I could rule out because of the weather, but I couldn't risk it. Two years later and here I am."

A long comfortable silence followed, before he broke it with the question I knew was coming.

"What have you been doing the past seventy years?" he asked, a smile on his mouth, and pain on his mind.

I chewed on my answer before I spoke it. Composing it in my brain, rolling it around on my tongue, testing its truth, before I uttered,

"Surviving."

And that was the harsh truth. For the past seventy years I had done nothing but the bare minimum to keep existing.

"Oh, Ander. I'm so sorry."

Anthony examined my face carefully for what felt like forever, before gently grasping my chin and dipping his mouth to meet mine. A heat smoldered inside of me building as his lips covered mine, gentle, teasing. My hands buried themselves in his thick hair as his pulled me tight to him. His strength was unexpected but not unwanted; the squeeze of his arms a pleasant discomfort after years of numbness. His tongue carefully coaxed my parted lips open farther, the sweet chill sent shivers of pleasure down my spine. I shifted so that I could straddle him, tilting my head to get a better angle.

Far too soon, he pulled his lips from mine, bending his head to bury his face in my neck. The soft abrasion of his beard stubble on my neck was a sensation I had missed all too much. His mouth moved hungrily on the column of my throat, slowly moving higher until he gently nipped the delicate skin behind my ear. I moaned, digging my fingers into his back, needing his touch more than anything.

He slowed his frantic pace, leisurely kissing my neck, my jaw, before finally just brushing his lips to mine. His hands were less calm, edging up my shirt to touch my lower back and hips.

Anthony scooped me up effortlessly and sat me on my bed with a light thud. He sat next to me, gently cupping my cheek in his hand. A slow reassuring smile spread across his lips, as he leaned forward to capture my mouth again in a rough kiss. Those hands returned to taunting the skin of my back and stomach before he pulled off my shirt altogether, leaning me back against the unused pillows. My fingers entwined in his hair as he dipped lower to kiss my collar bones and chest.

I exhaled a breath I'd been holding for seventy years.

* * *

Anthony

Alexander snuggled closer to me, his head on my chest. I didn't usually breathe, but I made the effort to, enjoying the rhythm of his, up and down, up and down. I couldn't remember a time I was happier, more perfectly and utterly content. Well, I suppose I could now. There were some things I didn't actually remember. I couldn't actually fully recall kissing him, until I kissed him hours earlier. I didn't remember making love to him until even more recently.

"Anthony."

"Yes, Alexander?" I liked to use his full name occasionally, enjoying the noble feel of it, the rich sound as it caressed my tongue.

"You aren't… leaving, are you? You're here for good?"

"I'm here as long as you will have me."

"Oh, I will always have you," he said slyly.

I chuckled, and rumpled his forever too long hair.

"You will, but how about the other people in this house?" he asked, a grim undertone crept into his voice.

"No, they know about… that part of me," he replied awkwardly.

"I mean… I don't drink from animals. I feed on humans."

Silence dragged between us.

"You're right. They won't like that. But…"

"I'm not changing to live with them. I love you. But now that I've found you, I just want you all to myself. I'll stop if you want me to, but not for them," I said, prepared to accept his anger if it came.

"I agree with you," Ander replied simply, "I don't want you exposed to them. They're nice, and they've been very good to me, but they are all about the whole self-deprecating, 'Oh, I'm a monster who has now soul, wahh!' charade. That and…" he trailed off lamely, searching for his words.

"That, and I don't want to have to share you."

I shifted Alexander, twisting him so that he was directly on top of me. He chuckled as I forced his lips down to meet mine. I buried my face in his neck suckling his ear.

"I'm no one's, but yours."

* * *

"I think they're close," Ander murmured, his voice muffled in my shoulder.

I closed my eyes throwing up barriers.

"They can only sense you. Just that you're here, not your thoughts or… actions," I finished with a smile. I couldn't help myself.

"You have to go now, don't you?" Alexander asked, rolling off of me and the bed, landing on the floor in one fluid motion.

"I'll be back, as soon as I sense it's safe," I replied quietly, pushing myself up off my stomach, and began the search for my pants.

"Right here," Ander murmured, tossing them to me, "I go to high school here. I can come to you. Just leave for school and go to you."

I fastened the button on my jeans, and pulled him into my embrace, "You know I would love that, but wouldn't it be just an ounce conspicuous?"

"Maybe just on sunny days, then?" he said hopefully.

"Well, I don't about _that _infrequently."

Alexander laughed pushing me backwards onto his bed. I rolled on top of him to pin his hands, before stopping short.

"Shit. They're closer than I thought." Scooping up the remainder of my clothing I ducked into the closet.

I heard him scuffling to get back into his own clothes and put the bed back together.

They were in the house now. Four of them. Two women, two men. One of them women and one of the men climbed the stairs. I heard heavy footfalls as someone entered the room. A man.

"You haven't moved," it was a statement, not a question, spoken in a velvety voice, laced with concern and judgment, "I know, you're going through a hard time, but it'll be fine. Trust me, you have eternity to move on."

"As comforting as that is, I would appreciate it if you would-"

The conversation ceased. I heard no movement. A few moments later I heard the other man leave the room. I blocked Ander's thoughts just in case he wasn't already.

I emerged carefully from the closet (oh the irony), and placed a fleeting kiss on Alexander's lips before ducking out the window again, disappearing into the now dark forest.


End file.
